These Are The Times
by BattleandRomance
Summary: John's In University. He's got insane roomates, unwanted donations and is finally coming out of his shell. Chapter 19: Penny For Your Thoughts?
1. Prolouge

I don't own the thunderbirds or any of the recognisable characters from the series. Anyone you don't is mine all mine.

These Are The Times

Prologue

Soft Piano Music fills my ears as I enter the dimly lit restaurant. I speak a moment with the matire'd who leads me to a secluded table at the back. A smartly dressed woman is sitting there sipping a glass of (House) wine legs loosely crossed. She isn't facing me just yet. I recognise both her and the outfit. Three inch purple velvet court shoes with a little bow just above the rounded toe. Moving up the smooth pale leg to just below the knee where the satin layer begins then millimetres above the net. My vision rises taking in her slim, shapely form. Past the womanly hips to the pancake-esq stomach, tapered waist and small bosom, passing her elegant neck in time to meet her turning head.

"John, So good to see you" She places her glass down hastily and quickly rises to envelop me in a hug. I hug back surprised at how glad I am to see her. She's been putting criminals away in Boston since she got her Bachelors in Forensic Science and Psychology.

"You too Lyssie, you look fabulous"

"Not doing so bad yourself Johnny"

"Is that the?"

"One and the same" She stepped back to give him a whirl "I'm just comforted by the fact that it still fits"

"Purple is and will always be one of your many colours"

"Aww ain't you a charmer" She said in a thick southern drawl.

"Don't you guys start without me" Erin hurried towards us coat trailing behind her. Her lengthy flower print dress was also from the same era. Always more outlandish than Lyssie, Erin is more…upfront. Currently she's busy with some marine life expo. I've never really been enthralled by Biology. Give me Newton and the Stars any day. But swimming with Dolphins as part of the job. I have to envy her.

"Hey Girl" Lyssie removed herself from me and threw her arms around Erin "You look great hun."

"As do you Lys, Hey Johnny" She gave me a nice big hug as well "Sharp suit. Hey you remember this shirt dont'cha Lys?" Erin grabbed a handful of the fabric blend to give Lyssie a clear view

"Aha the dance off, three tracks of ya best moves in your funkiest digs, not to mention the three hour shopping trip to pick out just the right shirt."

"Hey but we won"

"So we did" Lyssies smile broadens "So whatcha y'all been up to?"

I freeze in my own mind. I can't tell them. I feel sweat prickle at my forehead as Erin begins one of her marine life tales. I unfreeze just in time to laugh.

"So you made second in command of the study, that's brilliant, are you gonna start your PhD then?" Lyssie gives a congratulatory hug

"Already applied"

"That's excellent though I don't know why they don't just give you it'd save lots of time and trouble" I force that statement out quietly angry at myself

"How 'bout you Lyssie?"

"I'm seven cases away from making CSI3 and I just got my masters in forensic psychology, part time of course. I'm waiting to establish myself as a CSI3 before I put in for my PhD. But theres still plenty of fascinating cases to work. Just last month I closed the case of a man killed by a comb. The laws of physics plus a several billion to one chance. Needless to say my boss had a good old chuckle when reading my report."

"A comb you're kidding" I and Erin were disbelieving

"No way. And it took a great deal of experimentation to prove it. I had four other people check it because physics isn't my strong point. Eventual ruling accidental death"

"Amazing, truly amazing. How 'bout you John?"

I stopped for a second and before it became noticeable managed to start.

"The usual. Written a few more papers for publishing. Outlining a new book"

"Still under oath Johnny"

I didn't even have to nod. Fortunately Ref T arrived.

"Hey guys" His smart suit looked expensive. But he had on his shirt from the final night.

"Hey Lawman" That was Erin's current nickname for him. Tyler aka Ref T was my testosterone boat in the sea of oestrogen that was Lyssie and Erin. Never much of a scientist mathematics was more his scene along with a healthy dose of debate and just a touch of language skills and sporting prowess to boot. Tyler currently works at the DA's office in Frisco. Theres talk of promotion to ADA soon something Ref is both nervous and excited about.

"Sorry I'm late litigation with some people is a very annoying, long winded process especially when the defence is putting up as many pointless motions as possible"

"It's no sweat mate" I said smiling. "At least we're all here." That's true. The last time we intended to meet for dinner IR got called out and I was taken along, much to my chagrin. The phone call to the restaurant later was awkward to say the least; I had to make up some story about my charter flight being grounded. I think they took it at face value. Hopefully. All three are perceptive. Especially Lyssie. "Sit down, let's eat. I'm starved."

With that we sat down, took the complementary bread rolls and were soon laughing like we were college students again.

You know what? I've met some crazy people in my time. Not just madmen, fanatics and killers. But some truly insane people who walk the streets. And by their standards I'm one of them. Then again with my three roommates it's hard not to go insane. They each have their own quirks, habits, mannerisms and times the rest of us don't know what the hells going on with them. But you know what? I wouldn't change it for the world.


	2. Schools In For Autumn

I don't own the thunderbirds or any of the recognisable characters from the series. Anyone you don't is mine all mine.

These Are The Times

Chapter 1

Schools in For Autumn.

Where has the summer gone? A question I often ask myself sitting here on the dull couch with a bottle of beer in one hand and the blaring screen of my laptop in front of me, my other hand running fingers through my hair in frustration. We've barely been back a week already I've got essays to write, books to read and money to earn. And we've all slipped back into our own routines. John has gone back to his crazy neurotic self rattling about the apartment on his latest caffeine high. Alyssa has her alternating good and bad days with depression. Erin is in her irrepressible good mood that makes her near insufferable. And me? Well I'm back to my all nighter essay marathons in the company of cheap beer. But I've been top of the class two years straight so I must be doing something right.

The next morning I'm rudely awoken (I must have dozed off on the sofa) by the sound of the kettle boiling water, the TV transmitting some irrelevant information on weapons of mass destruction. Either that or Spidermans on and the sound of movement from two different sources. I sit up awkwardly my muscles stiff and in awkward places from crashing out on the sofa. Alyssa is standing guard by the kettle waiting to pour a mug of double strength choco mint in her red dragon polyester pyjamas. Erin pottering about in search for the spread to put on her toast. I can hear John emerging from stasis giving a massive yawn before joining Alyssa's vigil at the kettle.

"Morning all" I stretch, give a yawn not unlike Johns and haul myself off the sofa just in time for the kettle to boil. Alyssa explodes into action grabbing the handle before John and expertly filling her mug to the brim before stirring it clockwise several times. By now John had filled his mug and is preparing the rest of his breakfast. As is tradition Alyssa only drinks coffee for breakfast. Having successfully located the spread Erin is now pouring herself some coffee.

"Morning Tyler" Alyssa's calm greeting as she sat down nursing the boiling hot mug

"Morning Lazy bones" Erin it seems is already in happy mode

"It's too early in the morning to be happy" Alyssa grumbles gripping the mug like a lifeline

"Its too early in the cosmic scheme of things for her to be happy" John observes from the safe distance of the breakfast bar "Morning Tyler" He belatedly adds

I nod in understanding at the last statement and pour myself a mug before the water gets too cold. God knows what we would do without the kettle or coffee. I busy myself with getting down the cereal and fetching the milk. John has decided to sit on one of the breakfast bar stools and eat his toast slice. By our schedule Alyssa is on a bad day and his sort of offhand comments may be appreciated by the lovely brit but it will by no means save him, if he sits next to her from being used as a footstool, something which makes him very uncomfortable. She doesn't do that with me or Erin though. With Erin she has a tendency to get very irritable with her almost epidemically infectious good moods. Erin retaliates by being even happier. With me she'll lean on my shoulder. I don't mind but I think Johns a little jealous. There's been chemistry deeper than platonic friendship between those two. John though is too much of a gentleman and Alyssa won't act on her feelings. I think though the two of them suspect something between me and Erin. I guess I do really like her with her incessant cheeriness and sparkling wit the complete opposite of Alyssa with her degrading remarks and pessimistic viewpoint which she calls realism.

The mysteries of women huh? A deeper one is how two polar opposites such as Erin and Alyssa generally get along.

I take a seat at the breakfast bar with John. I, like the rest of my roomies are paying half attention to the animation on the television the other half directed towards ourselves. Within moments we've all sunk into stupors distracted by our own personal problems. It may be Saturday but we've all got our school work and our jobs to do. It's only seven thirty though. I used to consider this hour as ungodly as Satan and four am but having to hold down a job and go to university forced me to change my perspective. I can now run on six hours sleep then do an eight hour shift at the quick-stop-mart. The main incentive is discount on alcohol for one thing. But then again all our jobs have an ulterior motive. Alyssa's job at the bookstore is obvious. John works in a record store so we can indulge in up-to-date and back catalogue music. Erin holds down a position at the Ice cream and coffee parlour so we get nearly out of date ice cream and discount coffee in all sorts of neat flavours. Of course the University coffee bar sees lots of business and Alyssa seems to have a secret source that brings in cheap jars in cool flavours, choco mint being one of them.

I spoon myself the cereal quickly and efficiently barely pausing to enjoy the crackling on my tongue. Alyssa is still nursing her mug, Erin nibbling her toast and Johns taking occasional thoughtful bites out of his. The silence endures into a standoff building up to a dash for the bathrooms, we being lucky enough to have two small ones. Half an hour quickly passes. Alyssa had finished her mug ten minuets prior, the rest of us not of practised enough tongue to drink it at seventeen minuets after pouring. We've all set our mugs down and finished our respective breakfasts. I can visualise the tumbleweed rolling by all of us poised daring for each other to move. Alyssa is soon bored and boldly throws herself off the sofa from curled up to standing then to moving in less than a blink. Realising we're all losing the rest of us begin a mad dash. Alyssa's minor head start has given her the advantage and she dives into one of the bathrooms before any of us can stop her.

With our options halved we all pile in the direction of the other one nearly tripping over each others limbs. John's the first to go down. Erin and myself falling on top of him. I recover quickly nearly taking a clump of Johns blond locks with me. In seconds I'm on my feet only to go down again with one of Erin's pink nailed hands gripping my leg. John capitalising on my second fall and Erin's grip is up and away and out of reach before either of us recover. He's in he's locked and he's come second. Us losers face the prospect of waiting and participating in another mad dash when one of them exits.

You know what. I wouldn't change this for the world.


	3. Movies And Ice Cream

I don't own the thunderbirds or any of the recognisable characters from the series. Anyone you don't is mine all mine.

These Are The Times

Chapter 2

Movies and Ice Cream.

I switched off the shop lights and grabbed my haul: - Half a tub of maple and hazelnut ice cream (Popular with middle aged women) and what was left of the Belgian chocolate (Twentysomethings fave). Out the staff door, the front locked and bolted, enter in the security code and I'm done.

It felt good to be back at work, back at school, back at the apartment. Five minuet walk before three flights of stairs (The lifts buggered) a comfy sofa and a good movie. The Boston air is cool on this September night, the slight chill welcome. I forgot what smiling all day did to you. As much as I like her Lyssie is not a happy person and nine am to six pm at Coffee and Ice cream parlor would probably send her into shock. I love it thought. All the kids with their harassed parents and grandparents and watching their little faces light up when faced with so much ice cream then their elders buying some strong coffee to give them the energy to end the afternoon.

I smiled and hurried up my pace. Tyler would have picked up a movie to watch from the quick-stop-mart. Lyssie would have some books for us. How she reads them all I don't know. John's probably got a new CD from whatever rock/metal band has a sale on at the moment. Last week he brought back Green Day: International Superhits so who knows what it'll be this week.

I pull the swipe card out of my pocket and let myself in my walk turning to a jog up the stairs. Kicking the swing door out of the way and entering the third floor admiring the old décor of sixties wallpaper and faded cream carpet. I pushed open the mahogany door 3A and greeted Tyler and John, residing on the sofa, on closer inspection Lyssie was there as well legs over Johns lap and head on Tyler's shoulder. Jammy cow. I did the math on her and she's a lot more perceptive then she lets on. She's up to something I know it. Lucky lot as well. They all get off work at five.

"Hey T, What movie we watching?" He lent forward to the coffee table picking up the video rental case and giving it a wave

"Kill Bill Volume 2"

"Fab, hey someone help me with the ice cream"

"I'm moving I'm moving" Lyssie showed some life swinging her legs off John and hauling herself off the sofa. "How was work?"

"The usual" I put in plenty of nonchalance, she gave me a sad smile

"Screaming brats with harassed parents in search of placement and energy respectively" She delivered this statement matter of factly and gave me a look without saying anything asking if it was far off the mark

"Something like that" I said with a slight laugh smile "How about you?" Turnabout is fair play after all. Before she could reply I slipped in a remark "Middle aged men and women on the corporate ladder looking for some fulfillment?" I gave her a dazzling smile like I always did. I was determined to have her give me one back. But as for the past eighteen months she gave a soft sad one before replying.

"That and young mums searching out story books whilst their kids pull your hair"

"Rough deal" I grabbed some desert spoons from the cutlery draw whilst Lyssie foraged out some cookies and chocolate sauce. She took out a rolling pin and proceeded to bash the cookie pack a few times before heading back to the coffee table. Tyler and John already had the drink, Bucks Fizz, cheap version poured. I grabbed the ice cream and handed out the spoons before squeezing myself in between Lyssie and Tyler. The ads had just started. Lyssie tipped the cookie crumbs into the ice cream tubs before I added some chocolate sauce to the maple one.

We leaned back and put the tubs on our laps before digging in. Well I dug, T scooped, Johnny wedged and Lyssie sliced. Occasionally we would swap tubs and sip our drinks but for the most part we enjoyed the violence. Between the four of us the Belgian went very quickly us all being twenty. Lyssie though seemed to really enjoy the maple and hazelnut. She though can stop herself from over indulging a quality I envy. All too soon into the evening though the film was over. It wasn't even nine. Us girls curled up on the rickety old sofa whilst the boys fixed us a snack. Well John did and T watched as he had a well documented series of kitchen disasters. Even something as simple as toast had resulted in us giving an unknowing offering to the king of bread, the unfortunate slice having been unceremoniously sacrificed in the dorm toaster being turned into a black mass that crumbled when you touched it. Not to mention it looked like tear gas had been thrown in the room. Luckily the fire alarm hadn't gone off.

My the Mickey taking fun we had Alyssa even put away her sarcasm to join in the fun. We would put on squeaky voice when he picked up bread and would say stuff like 'Please please don't put me in the toaster' or 'Okay I submit just don't sacrifice me' I giggled a little before Alyssa gave me a friendly frown and turned back to channel surfing. I laid back and smiled up at the ceiling. I wouldn't leave this for the world.

I unceremoniously was brought out of my moment by the phones shrill ring. I looked over at the object as Lyssie reached over for it. As always annoyed at the phone for disturbing her and the fact she didn't like the contraption period (I suspect she doesn't like talking to a disembodied voice) gave her the excuse to be as bothersome as possible to the pour soul on the other end.

She gave a slight swagger picking it up and putting it to her ear and saying "Moshi Moshi" I think its the Japanese phone greeting. Can't be sure though. She listened for a moment before announcing to the whole apartment "Do we know anyone called Gordon?" I suspect there was another part to the sentence but she had seen fit to omit it. There was some gabbling at the other end as John left his cooking to come to the phone.

"Don't touch anything" He looked pointedly at Tyler. As he grabbed the phone from Lyssie he signaled for her to take care of whatever he was doing.

"Hey bro" He began before walking towards his room I assume to get a little bit of privacy. Tyler dejectedly sat down next to me. Lyssie looked at me scrupulously then Tyler before stirring the scrambled eggs a bit.

"You're doing it again" Oh great here Tyler goes

"Doing what" Lyssie replied picture of innocence

Tyler turned to me "She's giving us that look that she's up to something. He maybe a uni whiz kid but he can be a bit slow outside the classroom.

"T she's always up to something you've never noticed that before?" He shrugged before giving in

John re-entered the main space and joined Alyssa at the kitchenette

"Gordon's one of your younger brothers right?" I feel sorry for his poor mother, five sons! That's a touch unlucky.

"Yeah I think my Dad's doing that worry projection thing again" He smiled. "How many times will I have to tell him I can take care of myself and I want to do live independently like other people" I also feel sorry for him. He's only got a father, a very rich one granted. I get the impression that John feels his dad's a bit over bearing and wanted to pay for John to have a nice apartment and no money worries all through Uni. But because of his… his fractured and possibly sheltered childhood he wanted to get some life experience of his own which meant no financial support and living with us three. I can be sure of one thing though he loves it, living like this and making his own way in the world.

Man I'm starting to sound like a psychologist. Bloody Alyssa and her vocal observations.

"He's a parent of course he's gonna worry" When tend not to go too much into family. Lyssie lost both her parents four years ago. She came to the US to study two years ago and I'm sure she hasn't even spoken to her brother for that long.

Lyssie and John return to the sofa and hand out scrambled eggs on toast. We settle on watching CSI for now. Not really my kind of program but enjoyable enough. I settle back and enjoy my second supper. I feel pretty good, if exhausted. Pity about the essay I have to do tomorrow. That puts a dampener on even me.


	4. The Infalliable Mr Dawson

I don't own the thunderbirds or any of the recognisable characters from the series. Anyone you don't is mine all mine.

These Are The Times

Chapter 3

The Infallible Mr. Dawson

I turned over and snuck a peak at the radio alarm on the desk. Four thirty am _again. _This whole wake up at the crack of dawn thing can't be healthy. Especially when I'm sure I didn't get to sleep till after midnight. And worse it's Sunday. My mental rundown of the day's tasks didn't help either. I had half an essay to finish and a morning's overtime at the bookstore.

I sighed and rolled over attempting to at least salvage a doze from my awakening mind. After an hour of musing and using all the tricks to at least pretend to sleep I got up. Even though Erin slept like a rock my tossing and turning would eventually disturb her.

I snuck out feeling like an intruder. I quickly crossed what is described as the living room and grabbed a glass and bottled water from the fridge. I sat on the sofa, Ref thankfully not attempting another of his all nighters. My laptop and my book bag were retrieved and I set about my essay the first half having been done during my lumped together work breaks. I had chosen a long lunch instead of three twenty minuet breaks and an hour lunch.

I sat there the words flowing easily onto the laptop screen paragraph after paragraph. Two hours flew by. It being Sunday the others would have an enjoyable lie in something I have come to believe I am genetically incapable of.

But deciding it to be fine I boil up the kettle and prepare the mug of strong black coffee I have been pining for since I got up. The kettle is old and a bit noisy but it works. As usual my appetite has gone walkabout so I wouldn't be hungry till lunch. Sighing I set down my mug and back up my latest essay on disk. I tuck my unbrushed hair behind my ear and settle back into the sofa. Even by the time I'm dressed and have to go they're still all warm and tucked in. I've washed my mug and my laptops away so I grab my hand bag and head into the main city and the bookstore.

It's about half an hours walk but sport is something I don't really care for. It's more Refs department. Johnny Blond is more of a tennis guy and Enny has a strange fascination with squash. I do make an effort to improve myself though; I took up fencing one night a week. It's more of a thinking sport and requires co-ordination so it's a nice hobby. Plus I've always liked swords.

The streets we pretty quiet like always on a Sunday morning. There was the occasional swoosh as a car came by but this was a stark contrast to the bustling streets of Saturday. I set myself up into work mode ready to deal with irate customers, irritable coffee machines and my stupid boss.

My boss, Mr. Dawson is something of an arse. I'm quite sure he didn't hire me for my dazzling sales technique. Maybe my accent then. Despite living in the land of the free for two years my voice still holds the North London twang I was born and raised with. I greet him with my usual contempt. Despite being well read he never picks up on it.

I sit behind the counter and put on my soft smile, I love being surrounded by books. There's a certain smell about them. Slightly musty yet crisp. The smell of knowledge.

I long since came to the conclusion that my boss is a pompous git. He had been in at ten when I arrived for my shift to do an inventory of the stock room just like every other Sunday and had left me to mind the store the moment it was done. My only other company was Rachile an odd girl of indeterminate origin that even she cannot decipher. She was in the café section manning the small sandwich bar. Since its Sunday only one person is needed there. Danny would be taking over at the bar at one when Michelle would take over my post. Its late September so it would remain on a Rota, all staff taking a Sunday shift every three weeks till Christmas shopping began when there would be work two full Sundays, one off until the Sunday before Christmas when everyone would be in.

The problem with Sundays was that everything was so goddamn slow. I sat at the desk reading The Da Vinci Code. Mr. Dawson encouraged us to do this as it make us look intelligent and _articulate_. The same effect could be achieved if we all wore glasses with thick rims.

It's eleven and the only custom we've had is an old man who comes in every week for a cup of tea. I sat there reading with my thin rimmed reading glasses a necessity since I was fourteen. I didn't like to wear them a lot but made an effort at work trying to cultivate the solemn unapproachable depressive. Not so unapproachable that people were turned away though but quietly intrigued by the soft spoken female at the counter.

I don't make many bones about it. I am clinically depressed everyone says it but I'd rather work through it myself. I hate interference, I love observing and I choose to watch. Tiss my stance and I'll be happy when I'm good and ready.

In observing I guess I know Johnny Blond does like me and I guess I know I like him but I'm at a period in my life where romance just isn't feasible. I guess though there's something between Ref and Enny even if they won't admit it.

Mr. Dawson has made a grand re-entrance to the silent store. I with perfect manners say Hi as is polite. I slip a marker in my book and give him my full attention.

"Somethin' the matter sir?" I add a slight frown to my face to look like I care

"Have you seen Danny today?"

"Danny? Danny isn't in till one and he's covering the bar today" We are all trained to cover both the till and the bar but have our preferences. Mr. Dawson isn't satisfied with this

"I thought he was on till this morning" I could see the blood rushing to his face. In nearly two years he has acted infallible something I detest. I might finally gain a victory.

"We switched, I cleared it with you yesterday."

"Did I" He's a little over forty but already going senile.

I fought the urge to bang my head on the desk "If you don't mind me askin' sir but why didn't you quiz me on this when I got in"

"I don't know" He sounded genuinely mystified.

"I think you need to lie down sir" I couldn't help but feel slightly humored

"Why'd you two switch?"

"He had somethin' to do this morning he didn't say"

"Oh. Next time make sure to put it on the Rota then" He attempted to get some advantage

"I did" He's definitely flipped a lid

"Oh" He's a true man. Blames someone else "Well I'll wait until he's in, I need a word" Save his pride

"Okay"

As he rounds the counter he takes a tumble. I slip off my stool and help him up.

"Before you say it there was nothing there to trip over the carpet was vacuumed last night and I haven't eaten or had a drink since I arrived"

"Fine just help me up"

I quash my sense of victory to help the old fool onto one of the counter stools and return to my reading the silence back more ominous than before.

When my shift finished I had a quick lunch at the bar with Rachile before heading back home.

I was there in a blink even though half hour had passed. Everyone was up. The nice thing was everyone had Sunday morning hair. Next to them I felt civilized mine clean and smartly styled. Work Hair I call it.

"Hey Guys" Making an effort to sound happy even though I didn't feel it. Everyone returned my greeting. I headed for the kettle. It had the warm feeling like it had been emptied recently. I caught sight of Johnny blond and several coffee cups in the vicinity. He was caffeine high. It helped him with his work. So he said. I think his father has imposed a caffeine ban on his household and Johnny Blonds been havin' withdrawal. I know this because there are six mugs there. On his normal high there are four mugs.

I decided to finish reading the Da Vinci Code. There was nothing pressing so I finished that and had time to whip up what on our wages could be considered Sunday roast. Basically six potatoes, half a Swede, some carrot and a half tree of broccoli. I finished it off with some two minuet microwave rice. Sworn veggie for a good nine years.

By the end of the day I felt worn out yet still awake. Johnny Blond was staring out into space with his telescope. Ref was watching some sport. Enny seemed engrossed in some marine life internet download.

I guess since I moved here these guys have become my family. I haven't seen any relatives since I left the airport on that flight. I cut myself off from them. I still have all the contact numbers for aunts, uncles and cousins. My little bro would probably be in university by now.

I push the notion away and focus on what's in front of me. I have my health, my work, and my friends. I wouldn't be anywhere else for this world and the next.


	5. Sight For Sore Eyes

I don't own the thunderbirds or any of the recognisable characters from the series. Anyone you don't is mine all mine.

These Are The Times

Chapter 4

A Sight For Sore Eyes

I listened to the soft bubbling of the kettle as I spooned some instant coffee from the jar to one of my mugs. Stupid father and his caffeine ban. I sure got him back though. Thanks to Motorhead.

I took a moment away from the kettle to admire the room. Morgs was reading a book, Erin was doing something on her laptop and Ref T was yelling at some official on the box. The kettle finished with the water and I poured it into my seventh cup of double strength today. I had put aside my current assignment for half an hour as I was suffering from writers block.

Morgs seemed totally engrossed with the book, her multi colored hair reflecting the light of the apartment. Why she gets highlights I have no idea. Erin, she seems five seconds short of giving her laptop a good talking to, but then computer designers need to use simpler terms to put across the problem so mortals can understand it. And it needs to tell you the actual problem rather than take you round in circles. Ref T has calmed down slightly and is sipping his root beer.

I take a seat at the window box, place my mug down and take a peak out my telescope. It has the effect of lessening my writers block and taking my mind off the current fix that has me wanting to tear my hair out.

I sighed taking my eye away from my scope and focused on my mug. Father has been putting money into my account again. I told him I was living independent and didn't need support. Heck I've changed bank and accounts enough times to prove this. But somehow he tracks me down and puts in a few hundred dollars each week of what he calls maintenance. He even has my brothers checking up on me. For now I've given up and am going to try and only used my pay packet to live on and keep the rest of the money for an emergency.

Thank god he's to busy to have come and see the apartment or meet my cohabiters. Some how the idea of living with females means theres something going on to him. Welcome to the modern age. Besides living with the fairer sex is good experience for me as I grew up in a male dominated household.

Quarter to five. I decided to put off my essay till after tea and see what meal Morgs serves up. Every week on Thursday after school we take a trip to the store to buy some groceries for the week ahead. Whilst outright extravagance is out of the question we manage to do pretty well for ourselves as students. That and Morgs has a knack for making something out of very little.

I could just about do toast and bake a cake when I first left for university. Now I can add eggs, pasta meals and homemade pizza to the list although microwave meals still hold a special place in the freezer.

Compared to Ref T though, I'm a gourmet chef. Pasta, toast, eggs, pizza, pies, 60 seconds microwave meals, he's like a walking hurricane in the kitchen. All have resulted in some form of clean up and a vow to try again. One of his aims in life is to cook something without it requiring a cleanup or some scraping, or moping or a trip to the emergency room.

Erin is slightly subdued at this moment. I think she's working her way back up to happy after doing her homework. Her laptop has been closed down and she's fighting Ref T for the remote. And winning. His pleading looks almost make me want to assist but I leave those two to it. Word from Morgs is that they seem to really like each other. I have to agree. It's subtle but it's the way they argue and fight and talk. The way Erin looks at Morgs when she's got her head on Ref Ts shoulder (Usually with her legs on my lap).

I sip my coffee just as Morgs is putting in the microwave rice. The table had been set, the TV turned off and some music has been put on. Green Day: Dookie. The meal is served, prepared with typical care. We converse quietly, wash up the accumulation of coffee cups, plates, pans and cutlery and finish off the maple and hazelnut ice cream.

It's Sunday evening so TV entertainment is minimal. I finish my essay in record time and join everyone at the sofa for a root beer. Soon it becomes an impromptu dance off in-between arguments about British bands verses American ones. Morgs love of Muse and Lost Prophets gave a convincing argument verses some of the American music, although she does have a lot of American music.

"Oh come on British bands have just as good music as your lot its just you aren't so receptive of new things" There's Morgs

"Your music isn't as good" there goes Ref T

"It's just as good but Americans are a bit pig headed when it comes to British music. Plus you yanks should appreciate Britain more as we've stuck by you when the UN didn't want war over Iraq"

"You wanna bring politics into this huh?"

"You wouldn't know politics if it sat in front of you and said howdy"

"I would"

"Yeah and the Greeks really are better than everyone else"

(No offense to Greeks)

"What?" This comment mystified everyone

Then the dance off re began to Green Day's latest album.

Well worn out but feeling fitter and healthier for it I went to bed at about eleven, Morgs and Erin turned in about then as well. Ref T had some essay writing to get done and some beer to get him through it. I awkwardly slept, all the coffee I had drunk gave me really weird dreams. Something to do with wheels in space, blue uniforms and something long and orange. Weird.

Sleep never seems to last long enough. Soon enough it's seven thirty. I have my coffee and toast and listen to my three roomies snicker at me every so often. My mind eventually recalls my coffee assisted insanity and I laugh with them.

I think I've just started to emerge from my shell, become my own man. And I wouldn't want anyone else to see me go through it. I wouldn't be any where else for the world.


	6. Oh The Horror!

I don't own the thunderbirds or any of the recognisable characters from the series. Anyone you don't is mine all mine.

These Are The Times

Chapter 5

Oh the Horror!

Lyssie looked worried this fine Tuesday morning. Her standard morning shift on the kettle guard had put worry lines on her pale face. The kettle sounded funny and was spluttering then the red light that indicated boiling went out.

If the situation wasn't so serious then I would have laughed at Lyssie reaction

"Noooo!" The yelp escaped her lips as she realized that she was in terrible danger of not having her morning wake up call. T almost jumped off the sofa and John exited his room at double speed.

"What" They shouted in almost union

"The kettles gone"

At this they rushed to the kettle and started frantically flipping the plug and kettle switch, quickly realizing that it was a lost cause

"Its no use it's gone" John said sadly

"What are we gonna do?" T sounded worried but still sleepy "I need my morning coffee"

"Join the club" Lyssie gave him the double sarky voice and look with the raised eyebrow

"Don't get craggy Morgs it won't help"

The look she gave John was killer. Sighing she strode resolutely into her room. We three remaining stood arms folded not knowing what to say. In defeat we started on the rest of our breakfast. Mine and Johns toast and T's cereal.

As we all sat down in front of the television Lyssie triumphantly returned from her room with a dusty box. The rareness of a true smile from her was an event in itself in this apartment. But it still wasn't that dazzling smile I was after. She strode into the kitchen and slammed the box down on the counter. She brushed the dust off her box and unpacked the contents: a plastic object, a plug then a mug.

"I few years back I picked up a cheap coffee maker. I never thought about it till now because it only does one mug at a time but it would give us our coffee. The plug went into the socket and quickly it was set up and boiling away. "It's not perfect but it works, I'll pick up a new kettle on the way home"

"Your fab Lyssie" I gave her a broad smile hoping…maybe.

"It's nothing" Now the moment was over she slipped right back. Waiting patiently for her coffee.

We all had lectures this morning. So we headed onto campus then split off to go and join our 'Subject cliques'. These cliques were mainly close acquaintances that stayed separate from the 'group'. Cliques didn't visit the apartment unless all others had given permission. No gossiping about group or clique news unless relevant to all. If a clique was visiting all others to stay out of the way. Clique members were not allowed unaccompanied into the bedrooms and must have explicit instructions as to what they can and cannot take from the fridge. It was a good system. I joined my clique said my hi's and began clique gossip strolling to the lecture.

When I returned to the apartment at half four most of my afternoon spent in the library researching. I was greeted by John's clique. Permission had been obtained the previous afternoon for this little visit. I gave my greetings and dodged round the small group who it seemed were discussing the finer points of laser communication.

I took a coke from my part of the fridge, my shelf untouched since this morning a good thing as visiting cliques have taken food that isn't from their group members shelf. Thanks to personal tastes and five fridge shelf we have a general shelf with spread, meal ingredients like garlic bread, margarine, shared stuff and a personal shelf with our personal snacks on it. I took the can and a savory bar from my cupboard shelf to tide me over till tea. If you take something from someone else's shelf then you pay them back for it.

I flopped down on my bed, messing up the smooth duvet instantly. Lyssie was absent from her single, I assume purchasing a kettle. T had a shift at the quick-stop-mart. I decided to get on with my school work. I brought up my current research paper and started transferring notes from the afternoon's research to the laptop. Pen and paper are still very important to me.

An important visiting clique rule was the time to go rule. Each visit had an agreed leaving time where a half hour warning was delivered so they could close up discussions and leave. As a rule they had to be gone before the last bus home as we students aren't generally rich. This had been established after T's clique accidentally got in to deep then couldn't afford a cab ride home. And no one had thought to bring their car keys. So they bunked on the living room floor. And they snored.

John's clique was leaving at six. T got off his shift in time to give the half hour warning and joined me in mine and Lyssies room. Her perched on Lyssies neatly made bed and mentioned he hadn't seen her since this morning. A well known fact around here was that T and Lyssie crossed paths most Tuesday mornings at the coffee shop.

"… I didn't see her with her clique either I asked that Nicky guy when I saw them at the campus paper shop buying some sandwiches he said that their lecture was short today as they were researching a topic, he added that the professor had asked her for a talk and he hadn't seen her since."

"Hang on you mean that Nicky with the uptown drawl, cause he isn't the most truthful guy about."

"Yeah but that's not the point"

"I know, have you checked you phone recently"

"Yeah no messages, you?"

"No I'll check with John and the answer phone"

Johns clique were filtering out, there were no messages on the apartmentphone and nothing on Johns

"She must just need some alone time" I could see John's worry even with his bangs brushed forward

"Yeah, I'll fix something to eat" Sighing I got off the sofa and doubled up some pasta mix to feed us all. John and T were indulging in some news.

I asked T to help me as recently we had been giving him small kitchen duties in attempt to improve his culinary skills. Whilst he was opening the tuna I put out four plates, three normal, one microwave and shoved the three normal under the grill. So far so good, T had opened one tin and hadn't given himself a cut yet. John was engaging in the time honored past time of channel flipping. Why are TV schedules so bad around tea time?

"Congrats T you opened two cans of tuna and drained them without giving yourself a cut, next time I'll let you stir the pasta mix a bit"

"Yahoo!" T skipped (Manly) off to the sofa. John gave him a hearty slap on the back and T grinned like an idiot. Little things huh?

Seven o'clock was rapidly approaching when Lyssie arrived home. We were all eating our personal afters. I had chocolate pudding. T was eating a strawberry lolly and John had a scoop of his rocky road.

"hey guys" She said softly, something's really got her down. She slunked her school bag off her back and slipped off her coat. Her pasty skin looked even whiter, her make up had faded which made her eyes look somewhat hollow, thanks to the remains of her eye shadow.

"Theres a plate of pasta in the microwave you just need to heat it up."

"Sure, thanks." She showed us the plastic bag she was carrying. "New kettle" She stated firmly. She left that on the floor disappeared with her coat and bag. When she retuned she took the new kettle and quickly put that in pride of place. Then she turned to her food. The microwave set upon heating up the meal so she grabbed a bottle of water, poured herself half a glass and sipped that and put the rest of the bottle away.

When the microwave finished its time she emptied what was left of the tuna to her plate and ate it on the breakfast bar. She didn't make any eye contact. Just stared at the steaming food. I looked at John then T. I could see in both their eyes they knew what this meant. Code silver. Leave subject alone, they'll talk when ready. Approach and ask about problem at own risk.

Sometimes theres just nothing to do but wait and see. But I wish I could help, here and now.


	7. The Mystery Deepens

I don't own the thunderbirds or any of the recognisable characters from the series. Anyone you don't is mine all mine.

Thanks to Zeifanaat, Killhill, White Rose and Tikatu for reviewing

Sorry this chapter is late. I ran into Writers Block, had a splitting headache then had to finish my Biology coursework so sorry again and heres chapter 6.

These Are The Times

Chapter 6

The Mystery Deepens 

Alyssa finished her meal quickly before slipping down from the breakfast bar stool. She washed up the plate without a word and disappeared into the room she shared with Erin. The glance we all shared before sighing and slouching on the sofa it was no use talking to her for a while. John got up to make some coffee for us all.

"Hey guys, why do we have so many coffee mugs" He said indicating to the assortment of mugs next to the kettle

"Well I know Alyssa brought three with her and had that blue one with her coffee maker"

"And you had four T"

"So I did hey Erin how many did you bring"

"Four what about you John?"

"Four so why did we all bring four?"

"If we had guests maybe? Relatives and stuff" I thought it was a sensible answer

"But Lyssie doesn't have any round here so why'd she bring that many?"

"What don't ya ask her Johnny?"

"Nah" John indicated to each of Lys's mugs in turn "One's about her love of coffee, one has a dragon, the year she was born in, the third has cats on it, she likes cats but not as pets, flea bites an all and the forth came with the maker"

"Don't we all know about the flea bites" I couldn't help but be sardonic about that. Some wit in the dorm before we moved here smuggled a pet which of course caught fleas and gave poor Lys bites up and down her legs. Boy the tongue lashing that poor sod got when he was found out. And the cat? Put in some pet motel last I heard.

"Yeah" John chuckled "She was really annoyed as insect repellant doesn't come cheap it took a month for all them bitesto fade"

"How'd you know that?"

John flushed red before explaining "I saw her late one night in t-shirt and short pjamasshe had been wearing long ones till all the bites went down. I saw and she told me"

"Oh whatever you saw Johnny boy" Erin joined me in my smirk

"Whatever" John returned to the brand new kettle which was boiling effectively. "Anything good on tonight?" He put out a plate for some chocolate biscuits

"John, Its Tuesday"

He rolled his eyes up for a second "So it is" He mulled over this information for a moment "Re-run city"

"Yeah" Erin gave it with an exuberant nod.

John came back to the sofa with three mugs and the chocolate biscuits. "What are we watching?"

I flicked through the TV guide "Either soap opera or quiz show"

"Yep" Erin observed "It's Tuesday"

The next morning I awoke in the unfamiliar comfort of my bed. I guess I fall asleep on the sofa more often then I think.

I kick back my checkered duvet. The red glow of the alarm clock to me I was on time for now. John it's seems has already gotten up. Alyssa was watching the kettle intently as usual. John and Erin were trying to hypnotize the toaster. I knew this. Alyssa still hasn't spilled and they're giving her space.

"Hey Ref sleeping on a bed like normal people?" Alyssa's talents extend beyond the normal range. She can sing, dance, read, write, psycho-analyze, cook, clean, build, recall, spot a pop band a fifty thousand feet, insult, defend herself (Verbally and physically) , fix, hold a grudge, organize, argue, control her eating habits, recite the entire Lost Prophets 'Start Something' album and god knows how many other songs, save money, cut a deal, read three novels in a week, maintain a 4.0 grade average and has eyes in the back of her head. And that's just the tip of the ice-berg.

I stretch up to the top shelf and get down my economy rice pops. "Morning Lys" The remark phase of her secrets process. First mulling, distance, remarks, ben and jerrys, spacing out, shoulder leaning before finally sitting down around the table and an explanation.

John, Erin and I left before Lys as she had work. The elevator had been fixed and we headed to the bus stop. The rickety contraption was early for once. Or really late depends on how you look at it. John twisted in his seat to face me and Erin.

"What you say ben and jerrys by the time she's home?" Erin hopefulness. She hates not knowing, that I admire.

"Maybe" John sometimes saw realism "This though is really bothering her we'll be lucky if she sits us down before the weekend"

"I get that. I hope she's at shoulder leaning by Friday at least we can be sure she'll have told us by Sunday and can enjoy Saturday's movie knowing we'll almost know"

"That's optimistic Erin" I couldn't help but feel that whatever was going on it would end with an explanation.

We shared a sigh and slouched. No use worrying. We split off at the end of the ride and went to hang out with our like subject fellows. I put the worry at the back of mind. Another A for my last piece of work little b-ball at lunch then another lecture. When I met up with John for the ride home the mystery of Alyssa continued to deepen by the message on our answer phone.

Firstly our voices "Hey this is John, Tyler, Alyssa and Erin's apartment we ain't answering now so chat to the machine after the tone" Beeep

"This is Doctor Fetlan looking for Alyssa Morgan, Ms Morgan would you please call me back when you get this message"

John pick up the receiver and dialed 1471 scribbled down a number and wrote Dr Fetlan called please call back and wrote Morgs at the top. He left the note by the phone and started on tea.

"What gourmet delights are in store today?"

John rummaged around a bit then produced a bag "Chips, salad and quiche"

"Can I help?"

John thought carefully. "Okay put two normal plates under the grill and put two microwave over there" Indicating to a space near the microwave.

The girls wouldn't be back till after five but we were hungry now.

"Then turn the grill on high and help me with the chips" John added

Half an hour later we had chips, quiche and salad. The remainder of the chips was on the microwave plates with a second cheese and onion quiche. The salad bag was safely in the fridge. My current run in the kitchen was two visits with hot food and no disasters. New record!

"So is this Dr Fetlan one of Lys's professors?"

"Nuh uh" John had a better memory for these sorts of things "The mystery deepens"

Johns brow furrowing was interrupted by Erin bursting through the door, bag in tow

"Hey guys"

"Hey Erin" I checked my watch "Yer early"

"Yeah" Erin said swinging her bag onto the table "Mrs Ackerson told me to leave off early something about new freezers, we got a load of excess stock" Pointing to the bag "So we got a feast"

"Nice hey Erin do you know a Dr Fetlan?"

Her eyes looked up as if searching a memory "Doesn't ring a bell why?"

"Wants to talk to Morgs"

"Oh"

"Hey Erin yer tea's over by the microwave you just need to heat it up"

John returned to his food, I followed suit. The ice cream was shoved into the freezer the microwave started up and we tuned into so random program. Contemplating the mystery surrounding moody brit.


	8. Record Store Musings

I don't own the thunderbirds or any of the recognisable characters from the series. Anyone you don't is mine all mine.

Thanks to Killhill, White Rose and Zeifanaat for reviewing, much appreciated

These Are The Times

Chapter 7

Record Store Musings

It was with simple grace Morgs entered the apartment an hour later then usual. Though there was nothing outwardly different about her I still thought it fair to worry. Her soft Hey Guys before eating her meal alone followed the pattern of the night before. When asked about the mysterious call from Dr Fetlan she picked up the cordless phone and when straight to her room closing the door. This followed through to Thursday. Friday evening when we all got home we found her curled up on the sofa looking just…sad. Wrapped around her arm was a half empty pot of Cookie Dough ice cream. And she was still going strong. I decided to take the plunge and sit down wordlessly. As expected she didn't want to sit up so readjusted her frame so her head was on my lap. The poorly disguised amusement of Ref T and Erin from the breakfast bar coupled with the duel signs of ben and jerrys and leaning were a comfort to us all. They sat in front of us on the vacuumed carpet for Friday night entertainment. Looking awkwardly down at Morgs I could see she wasn't really paying attention to the program. Another good sign.

The following morning her spacing out continued as we viewed Spiderman and other Saturday morning entertainment. As we went our separate ways to work I was feeling slightly better for the almost knowing and worse for the actual finding out. But that was for later. I didn't have to be in till half nine so I stopped off at my bank for a mini statement. Damn Father, Money had been going into my account again. I tore up the statement and stomped off to work.

I always liked the atmosphere of the record store. Had a sense of emotion that was most intriguing. The way the singers voiced the words, how the music swims around you taking you in and making you feel a part of something. I remember my first day here. I had just started my first year of laser communications and was feeling out of place. Well actually I had arrived a week before classes started. I was restless, it couldn't have been past ten o'clock but that isn't the point. There was only one other soul in the whole building. Down one floor the kitchen light was on. Understand that it wasn't a very good kitchen battered toaster, appliances from the seventies etc. On the table was a boom box playing some random CD. I didn't know the bands back then. In the chair facing the door was a girl, practically a woman dressed in pajamas sipping a bottle of Smirmoff ice.

"Care for a drink?" The rules of my household meant I had some experience with wine. But vodka was a whole new ball game. Initially shocked I managed a shaky nod before she slid out of the chair, grabbed another bottle from the four pack sitting on the counter opened it skillfully with the end of a can opener and handed it to me. I took my first nervous sip the liquid sliding into my mouth and assaulting my taste buds with new sensations of lemon and vodka. It was a little heady but nice.

"Sit" She signaled to the chair opposite. The music filled the room a cascade of voice, instruments unlike anything I'd ever heard. I sat down. This whole situation was new. Here I was sitting in a dorm room with a young woman in her pajamas, drinking and I didn't even know her name.

"I'm Alyssa" Her nervous smile helped to ease the tension.

"John" I replied after another sip "So how come you're here early?"

"Just am" There was something about the way she acted the soft melancholy that made me want to know her.

The classical music I had grown up around seemed nothing compared to this.

"You look like you've never heard Muse before?"

"I haven't"

"So what music do you listen to?"

"My brother plays the piano and I listen to the radio from time to time"

"Wow I don't know what my life would be without music; it cost enough to get my collection brought over here"

"You're not from round here?"

"No I've lived in England all my life. I got a scholarship here though and it was too good to pass up"

"Oh"

"So do you like what you're hearing?"

"Yes what's the name of the album?"

"Origin of Symmetry"

"Hmm makes sense"

"You think?"

"So what other bands do you listen to?"

"Green Day, Nirvana, I inherited my Dads music collection so I've got loads from the seventies as well"

"Cool"

It was that night I realized that I wanted to hear more music. So the next morning I enquired in a few record stores and found the perfect one here. I've never looked back. From Muse to Motorhead and beyond. I've built up my own record collection, still not a patch on Morgs's though.

As I sat wistfully on the counter I was interrupted by the other gal in my life

"Hey Erin whatcha doing here?"

"Being paid to take the day off as the whole place is being refitted"

"Nice" Theres something about Erin that draws people to her. Her smile, her jet black hair and her expressive green eyes. She always seems so happy, like nothing could ever bother her. Come rain, shine, sleet, snow. She would always see the Brightside. Her love of marine biology, learning, heck her love of life. She's so lucky how her life has not been marred by tragedy. There was always a slight jealousy at that. But I learned that I could learn a lot from her, to push away my ghosts and look to the future instead of letting the past influence my decisions. Of course there is some small bearing but greatly reduced than what it was three years ago.

I take my break and we chat about stuff for a bit before she heads off to see Ref T. I browse the shelves enjoying the rhythm of the store picking out another album for my ever expanding collection. A white edge catches my eye, I pull out the case and examine the title. Muse: Origin of Symmetry. I'd been looking out for a copy for ages. Smiling I pay for it and put it in my inner coat pocket before returning to the counter.

I arrive home to see Erin and Ref T cooking. Morgs was unaccounted for but most likely on her way home. I watched Ref T successfully remove two slices of toast tanned golden brown to perfection.

Yes, this is where I want to be.


	9. Time

I don't own the thunderbirds or any of the recognisable characters from the series. Anyone you don't is mine all mine.

Thanks to White Rose, Tanwen Micara and Zeifanaat for reviewing.

These Are The Times

Chapter 8

Time

As much as I love my friends Johnny, Enny and Ref it's still hard having to sit them down and tell them that I have to see a therapist twice a week and take anti-depressants. That's what Dr Fetlan's about. It's also hard having to finally come to terms with my parents death, leaving England and admit that I need help.

But I have to take that all in my stride, keep up with my school work, my job. Adopt, adapt, improve. Or something. It's the anti-depressants that worry me the most. How much are they going to take out of me? I don't even know what they're going to prescribe me yet. This is going to be hell on my medical insurance.

It was Saturday, closing time. I put down the book I was reading, cleaned up, cashed up and locked up. I was unsure whether to tell them tonight or wait till tomorrow. I would have to wait till after the movie at least. It had been getting darker earlier recently the heralds for Halloween, Thanksgiving and Christmas. This year it was going to be just the four of us on Thanksgiving. Previous years Johnny Blond and Enny have gone home leaving me and Ref. I would read all day and he would watch sports.

My first proper thanksgiving. I smiled at that thought heading down the street. I passed a coffee bar and decided to stop. I couldn't be bothered to return home yet. I put my mobile on silent and wrapped my hands round the steaming mug.

Tuesday my psychology professor asks me to stay behind tells me to go to a councilor. Wednesday the councilor calls home and now I have to go twice a week cutting into the only week time I have free. Wednesday and Friday afternoons. All I have left is the odd Sunday.

I nibbled at the biscuit, sipped my coffee and stared at the table. I massaged my temples rubbed my eyes and breathed deeply. Sunday after tea. I'll tell them then.

The mug is very hot but I grip it tightly nonetheless I need the warmth. The whole closeness I lacked for the past few years is in my hands. They go red but don't burn. My bro? E-mails every so often. Back home and in Uni. Never really that close honestly but family you know. I've probably got a mountain of cards saved by my Nan from missed birthdays and Christmases and most of my cousins are in their teens or nearly now. Don't miss those annoying brats.

I sip again. Not a great socialite either one really close mate lots acquaintances. E-mail saves a lot of the actual talking stuff.

Another sip. My childhood home was sold when my folks died the money split between me and my bro. I could save most of it when I came here thanks to my scholarship so I've got emergency funds and probably enough for a deposit someplace.

The coffee's cooled sufficiently now so I takes two gulps to finish and head back into the night. Here goes.

Monday came round sooner than I thought. The guys were very understanding but now they're on eggshells. That was what I was afraid of. It wasn't till Wednesday that the full force hit. I was being prescribed Prozac twice a day. I had a pile of research on it that I'd have to read go over my diet and be regularly monitored. Plus a massive half life. Fortunately my insurance covered it but my premiums go up. I threw myself on the sofa when I got home. Apparently I landed on Ref taking a nap.

"Sorry Ref" I got up and threw myself on my bed. I didn't want to talk I just wanted to wallow.

I didn't know how long I laid there but all of a sudden Enny's yelling at me to come get my tea: Naan bread with cheese and onion. Apparently Ref dished up. He'll be making a roast in no time. I slipped into the bathroom for a moment between main course and desert stuck one of the pills down my throat swallowed awkwardly. So it begins.


	10. Families

I don't own the thunderbirds or any of the recognisable characters from the series. Anyone you don't is mine all mine.

Apologies for not posting in ages. All my AS exams came up so I've had absolutely no time. I probably won't have much time for a while as I'm squeezing this chapter out in between starting A2 and going on biology fieldwork next week. What fun that'll be a week on the beach looking at seaweed and staying in a hostel with roommates who'll either snore, be really loud or be people I don't know or don't get on with. Sorry about that. Then comes the typing up of that I've also got psychology coursework but if I hit a roadblock I'll try and write a little something. So please bear with me. On the Brightside of life I saw Greenday last Saturday. It was amazing.

Thanks to Zeifanaat, Kill Hill and White Rose for reviewing, you comments are much appreciated

These Are The Times

Chapter 9

Families

"Okay Alyssa can you tell me why you hate your father so much"

This is only my second session with Dr Fetlan and already it's getting on my nerves. I feel like a train wreck, have no appetite, the libido of a blueberry muffin (not that I had much to begin with), a mild but consistent headache and even worse time sleeping but always feel tired. And she wants to know about my dad.

"Okay. My Dad wasn't a smart smart man. But he knew what he was doing. He worked for my idiot Grandfather since he was fifteen when they had to sell up the garage when Dad was about forty Dad started looking for a new job he got one on the nightshift at a supermarket. When redundancy came up my granddad didn't even give him half what it was worth because granddad wanted him to continue in the car industry. My mum didn't like her father in law either. He was always superior. Mum was often mad at him or grandma or dad's brothers when they did something wrong."

"Like what"

"On of my dad's brothers is my godfather but he forgot my birthday and on another of my birthdays my idiot grandma got me size fourteen to sixteen pajamas at the cost of five pounds, they weren't even nice. At the time I was improving my diet and shedding puppy fat, I've got a thing about my weight and was a size ten. I remember my Mum yelling after grandma went to dad 'Your daughter now thinks her grandmother thinks she's fat'"

"What about your other cousins, did they ever have problems of that nature?"

"No on that side I'm the only granddaughter, theres my brother and my dads brothers sons."

"I see. So what did your father do that made you hate him?"

"Well first he always made faces when we were eating crisps, crunching. He also brought us magazines. When I was getting an expensive one on subscription mum made him pay full price for my other one when we had previously been going half. Mum was paying for some of the subscription and thought it was only fair but dad was annoyed. He thought about himself first. He saved up every year to go to the British grand prix but never had any money for mum's birthday. He made minimal contribution to the bills and when he had overtime from his job at the supermarket he spent it on videos. I often wondered if Mum still loved him or even loved him to begin with and married him because she thought she was getting old and wanted kids."

"Did you ever talk to your mum about this?"

"No she had enough to worry about."

"Such as"

"Her job at the bakery she was always complaining about having to do the work of two people on minimum wage and never getting overtime rates. Dealing with the fights and arguments between me and my brother and general household stuff. I sometimes felt like she was ignoring me or brushing me off or favoring my brother. She also had a fair number of complaints about her family, her brothers and sisters and even her mum."

"Well. I think that's enough for today Alyssa. We'll pick this up next Wednesday, you're doing really well"

"Thank you Dr Fetlan. I see you then"

I couldn't get out of there fast enough. By the fates it was Halloween and I wanted to get home soon to avoid trick or treaters, mostly trickers. Get home and watch a few scary flicks.

Of course that's easier said than done. The guys were all busy preparing food when I answered the door.

"Oh thank the gods Lyssie" A portly middle aged woman threw her arms round me. She was dressed in a sparkly costume. Feeling dread she continued "My babysitter fell through and I just have to go to this fancy dress dinner, business you see with Rick out of town I have to represent the firm but I can't leave the kids home alone so could you watch them for the evening."

Grace and Rick Sanson were the owners of an up and coming legal firm. Although Grace was mainly the accounting, nearly silent partner, Rick did the legal eagle thing Grace still took an active part in the face and advertising of the firm. Between them, through IVF they had two sets of twins: the five year old boys and four year old girls. I could see them lined up behind Grace looking expectant. They owned a conjoined apartment on the fifth floor.

I looked to the guys. I was worn down and didn't know if I could deal with four rowdy kids all evening even with the guys help.

"Sure Mrs Sanson" Piped up Johnny after a few seconds and a silent discussion with Enny and Ref.

"Yeah go on then" I sighed turning back to Mrs Sanson and her brood

"Thanks you're the best all of you." She turned to the little ones "Now behave for Alyssa, John Erin and Tyler. No jokes no yelling no fighting, if you behave they may take you round the building trick or treating." She sent a wink in our direction.

"Yaaay" they chorused

'Noooooo' I sang in my head.

"Thanks Lyssie we'll negotiate payment when I get back" In other words she doesn't know how long she'll be. Bye bye movies.

The four little ones dashed in past me as Grace said her goodbyes. I knew this they would be angels in front of her but the second the door closed WAR!

"Bye Jack, James, Lucy, Lilly. Be good for them"

"Bye Mom" The angelically chorused

"Thanks again Lyssie"

"Anytime" I smiled softly.

The both sets of twins waved their mother off and she stepped into the currently working elevator. But I could see their little minds ticking over; plotting oh yes it was going to be a looonnnggg night.

I hadn't even shut the door when it began, not even the prepatory oookay. They had engaged in tag and were running around like devils-in-disguise loonies. I sunk down to the floor against the door frame whilst Ref and Johnny tried to exact some order.

I suddenly, if that was at all possible felt worse.


	11. The Art of dealing With People

I don't own the thunderbirds or any of the recognisable characters from the series. Anyone you don't is mine all mine.

Thanks to Zeilfanaat and White Rose for reviewing.

These Are The Times

Chapter 10

The Art of Dealing With People

Twenty minutes in. Alyssa had gone to lie down. The drugs are really taking it out of her. And the Sanson children or 'The Devils Incarnate' were tugging on trouser legs to go trick or treating in between explaining why Lyssie (What they called her) was in her room and needed quiet. She certainly has a way with little ones.

Erin managed to shut them up for a while at the expense of our ice cream supply and some loud sugar fuelled TV program. The movies I rented were piled neatly on a high out of reach shelf.

John shoved a plate load of macaroni cheese my way, a second for Erin and took a plate to Alyssa's room. I ate quickly; I really didn't want to share at this moment in time. On Halloween by boss gets really itchy about eggs and toilet paper and won't sell it to anyone under twenty-one without a note from their parents. I missed lunch to do inventory; some frozen meals hadn't been delivered so I think I've earned this.

At least theres still some toffee honeycomb in the freezer.

Peace.

Not good it can't last.

The phone started ringing.

All of a sudden everything changed. John, Erin and I all dived for the cordless object just as one of the Sanson boys did. There was nearly a collision, Erin lifting it out of the way just in time before the bodies fell in a mess.

"Hello?" A tense pause. We had recently begun screening phone calls at John's request. All he would say was family stuff. We'd probably just have to wait it out. "It's yer brother T"

John gave a massive sigh of relief

I took the phone "Hey Rich". It was nice to get a phone call. Rich is thirty and a member of the corporate ladder. Recently engaged I was looking forward to the summer wedding in Texas, I was to be best man. (At least he doesn't have to cook-Alyssa) "Wassup?"

"You're gonna be an uncle bro"

"Jennie's pregers? Congratulations man. How far?"

"Three months, we've known for a while but we wanted to wait before we told anyone."

"That's great, what did mum say."

"She's overjoyed, so's dad. Just been on the phone to them. Alice is excited to. She's happy theres finally gonna be someone younger than her."

"She'll always be our baby sis". Alice, my baby sister is aged seventeen and wants to be a translator."

"Anyways love to chat some more bro but I've gotta get on the phone to aunts and uncles."

"Best of luck mate watch out for Uncle George, seeya whenever"

"Take care bro"

"Later" We hung up at almost the same time. I took the phone with me and put it on the counter. I looked at my plate.

Wiped clean.

"Goddamit"

Them twins really know how to take the biscuit. If it were down to me those little hellions won't be getting any candy tonight.

"What now" John sounded miserable, looks like he lost some of his as well. The brats looked pleased and like they wanted to do … something but didn't know quite what. The ice cream and TV show must have ended.

"Where's Lyssie, I like Lyssie I wanna play with Lyssie" Not again be quiet Lilly. Seeing her twin pipe up Lucy joined in

"Me too. I wanna play with Lyssie, can Lyssie take us trick or treating. Can Lyssie play games huh, huh, huh?"

It's like a pebble before the landslide.

Jack and James added their ten peneth and pretty soon the neighbours would be complaining.

Punk, punk, punk.

I took to the door whilst Erin and John tried to placate them with paper and pencils.

"Why don't you draw some pictures to help Lyssie feel better?" It might just work.

I already had a pretty good guess at who was knocking.

"Hello Edgar" Owner of 3C Edgar was a behemoth of a man who ran a hotdog stand around the city. He was bitter at young'uns like us of 3A for whatever reason. I didn't really like him either.

"Can you keep the racket down? Unlike some I've had a long day at work and want to relax"

This happened every time the twins were being babysat here.

"We're trying they're little kids Edgar" Even if they were annoying I prefer them over Edgar and wasn't going to voice my opinion to him.

"I was a little kid once, never made any noise. Tell that British broad to keep them quiet." Alyssa was known throughout the building as being one of the few who could calm the Sanson four down and keep them calm. It was also the reason Grace and Rick went through babysitters so fast. Word spreads few bad experiences with one babysitter and no-one will look after yer kids.

Bless her tiny black heart Lucy looked up from her sheet and yelled "Lyssie not well, she's lying down" Edgar looked in contempt before looking back at me.

"Well tell the British broad to get up and do something for the good of the building I don't care if she's on her deathbed. Tell her to get up and keep them kids on low. I didn't know that colouring in was such a noisy activity."

"Yes Edgar" No Edgar, I won't if Alyssa wants to get up she can but I'm not going to force her just to appease a two ton middle aged jackass.

I shut the door before my mouth could say that though.

Besides they have to take a breather sometime. Don't they? They noise had gone down more likely due to our neighbour than anything us three could do. Whilst Erin and John supervised the drawing I in ten minutes put away my toffee honeycomb ice cream. (There was like a quarter pot left). And washed up. Leaving smashables around, big no-no.

I went to get the plate from Alyssa's and Erin's room. It was half eaten on the side. Alyssa was finished; the position of her cutlery said so and looked to be dozing. After I finished cleaning up and joined John and Erin. The kids drawing were simple and messy. Nothing certain had been done. I gently smiled at Erin and John and looked on. The night ain't over yet.


	12. Are We The Waiting

I don't own the thunderbirds or any of the recognisable characters from the series. Anyone you don't is mine all mine.

Thanks to Zeilfanaat and White Rose for reviewing your comments are greatly appreciated

These Are The Times

Chapter 11

Are We The Waiting

I twitched irritably. It was eight in the evening and we're stuck with hell spawn till eleven at the earliest. I looked to Erin then Tyler. We hadn't decided if we were going to trick or treat yet. But I sure as hell know we can't keep them entertained for the next three hours (Bedtime means nothing when you're not with your parents) in this apartment. They watched Shrek 2 the last time they were here and that's the last remotely child friendly film we own. All the rest have a minimum rating of PG-13 and that's just asking for trouble.

Now sure I've dealt with my brothers before but fisticuffs and yelling isn't appropriate on someone else's kids especially if they're at least a quarter of your size and age. (Not a stretch for any of us, even Morgs). And so what we're left with is gentle explaining something these kids don't have the ear for unless it's from Morgs who frankly can't be dealing with this right now.

It's not that I'm sexist but unless you're related to them men don't have the paternal knack until they've got their own kids. (I've seen it happen one guy back Iowa he couldn't rein in the junior football team till his wife dropped their sprog. They became league champions two years later). Women are just more maternal. Some more so. Erin I imagine is the kind who can deal with other people's kids for only short whiles. If she has kids it will be an adaptive experience. Morgs seems to be a natural. Gentle and firm at the same time. She says she's had lots of practice.

Either way the three of us are going to have to pull together if we want to survive the night.

"So are we?" Erin asked leaning in.

"Is this the thing that we said we might do when there was the wink and the maybe" I was taken aback by Ref T's statement then I decoded it put it in context and it made sense.

"I think so" I said

"Is it?" Erin asked

"Probably". Ref T

"Is it or not?" I was exasperated

"Maybe" Erin

"Might" Ref T

"Should" Me

"So" Erin

"Can we?" Ref T

"If we tie and gag" Ah the memories

"That defeats the point"

"Ands illegal"

"I think the question more is are we guys? Geez people by the time you finished that conversation America will believe Led Zeppelin won the west."

"Lyssie!" Erin said turning round "you're up are you felling better?"

"Marginally" She softly shrugged. She had changed and was wearing heavy black trousers that were wide and dragged along the floor and long sleeved t-shirt with barbed wire patterning.

"Lyssie" The twins yelled in stereo. "Are we gonna get candy are we gonna trick or treat huh? huh? huh?"

She crouched down to eye level and told them calmly "in a little while, John, Tyler and Erin need to make a quick change okay then we'll do a few floors. But you gotta behave okay?"

They nodded vigorously before dragging Morgs over to examine their drawings. She praised each one equally asking about each picture in detail.

We on the other hand went to our rooms to find something remotely costume like to wear. Rifling through my wardrobe I discarded a few pale t-shirts some smart chinos before deciding to follow Morgs's example. I pulled out and on some black cargo pants (At least an inch to long (And wide but that's what belts were invented for)) and a flame edged black shirt. Father would not approve. Smiling I grabbed a comb that was lying around and loosened the knots in my hair to give mussed spikes. It was still quite short (it was only last week I had it cut) again father would not approve (You look like a gang member), plenty of time to grow it though. At that I put on a cross pendant and shoved my phone and wallet in two of the many pockets. One final glance. Passable enough. It's not like a costume party. (last year I was Will of Will and Grace. It was fun having dark brown hair for a couple on months (That was a bet) You know its amazing how much a hair colour can change your appearance.)

As I left the room Ref T went in. Morgs was sitting on the window box leaning against the wall fingertips pressed to her forehead. The brats seemed happy enough with the crayons. I gave her a smile. I got a tried one back.

"You sure 'bout this"

"Yeah. We only need to do a couple of floors and I'll go crazy just sitting around. I can't concentrate on reading and I'm all up to date anyways.

"Okay. But say if it's too much and we come straight back got me"

"Gotcha"

I sat down on the on the window box as well. Erin in a long black dress (high cut and sleeves like Morticia Adams) followed by Ref T with some of his football equipment (Pads helmet) on.

"Alright witches (Lucy and Lilly with costume shop cloaks and dresses) got grab your hats and bags. And you too skeletons (Jack and James with the X-ray pyjamas) masks and bags on the double. Line up and we'll move out.

"Yaaaaaayyyy" They dropped everything and stampeded to the chair where they had everything. Some scrambling later and they were lined up ready to go. Before any of us had a chance to move from our previous positions. Oh the energy of youth.

As we moved Morgs and Erin ahead Ref T tugged my sleeve.

"Five bucks says we lose one before we get back." I balked then looked at him incredulous.

"Why don't I just give you the cash now man?"

"Damn you see right through my little ruse."

"Good try though, good try"

"What's a world without it?"

"A world without anything"

"Aye. Let's try for this not to be a disaster"

"Five bucks says a least one thing goes wrong"

"Give it up John ol-boy. You know that just as well that something will go wrong just as much the sun will rise and that George Bush is a cheated to get his first term."

"Let's try and make it so only minor things go wrong then"

"Agreed"


	13. Sweet Things

I don't own the thunderbirds or any of the recognisable characters from the series. Anyone you don't is mine all mine.

Thanks to Zeilfanaat and White Rose for your encouraging reviews

These Are The Times

Chapter 12

Sweet Things

"Okay everyone grab a little ones hand" Lyssie told us. Good idea.

Still I doubt it'll stop them from trying to lose us the second we get going. The block had twelve floors of apartments each with four apartments. The elevator is temperamental at best (Something for the next tenants' association meeting. It only works smoothly with one person I it) so the stairs will have to be used. If anything it'll wear them out a bit. It also means we'll probably starting at floor one make our way up to five thenhead back home. I'm certainly not walking all the way to the top floor only to walk all the way back down again. What a way to spend Halloween.

Oh well. They'll probably be too tired anyways so it doesn't matter. Lucy (I think) took my hand and tugged me in the direction of the stairwell. John managed to lock the door one handed with Jack (I'm not sure) jumping around like a monkey on caffeine (Heck it's probably true. I wonder where their stash is).

The neighbours were mostly likeable. For example Marcus at apartment 1B sent us a card last Christmas and Geraldine at 4D will sometimes whip up a pot roast if she thinks we're all getting to thin. I'd say that's more a worry for John and Lyssie though. It's not like they don't eat, it's more they forget to eat or don't finish their plate.

Marcus was nice enough when we reached floor 1. Few sweets for the brats. A swig of vodka for their chaperones.

It all went wrong when they devils-in-training decided to race to the fourth floor from the second. It was all in slow motion. By some pre arranged signal/cosmic sign/psychic twin communication/stroke of inspiration/childish whims they yanked themselves free of our hands and pelted wildly up the stairs.

John, T and Lyssie took off ahead, with their trousers. T had the easiest job, basketball sprints and jumps up the stairwell John and Lyssie trying not to trip over their over long pants but making good time.

I took two handfuls of my dress and brought up the rear one hand full of dress and hand rail other with dress pumping in time with my legs. I made it up the third floor past the landing up the stairs. Halfway up the first of the forth floor staircases I went down in spectacular fashion, as I went I saw T then five paces behind John and Lyssie slam through the spring doors. I thunked down bashing my chin and knees before scrambling up. Lyssie burst back through dashing down to me.

"Ya'll right En?"

"Yeah" I took her arm and put my weight on it checking for blood with my free hand.

"Good" A slight relieved smile graced her features as I fully rose. Thank god I was wearing flat boots.

"Ya catch Satan's junior henchmen?" I dusted myself off

"They were bashing on Geraldine's door when we got to them. She's handing out home baked treats, want in?"

"I am so there" God was Geraldine a good cook.

We dashed back up, keeping a hand on Lyssie sleeve as to not go over again.

"For Young John Chocolate muffin with chocolate buttercream." She removed the cake off the tray and put in John's hand "Dashing Tyler Cherry bakewell with marmalade." She handed it to Tyler's left palm "Ah for Sweet Alyssa Dark Chocolate crunch" She tugged of a sticky looking block "…and Dear Erin Fresh Cream Donut."

Taking the proffered chunk of digestive and dark chocolate. Lyssie smiled "This looks excellent. You truly spoil us Geraldine; you didn't have to do this"

"Oh but I enjoy it Alyssa so let a little old lady have her fun"

"You're not old Geraldine you're in your prime and wise" John bit out a chunk of his muffin

"John Tracy If I were forty years younger. Alyssa you shouldn't let this one go. Same for you Erin and Tyler. Now run along. I'll bring you round a pot roast this Sunday."

"You don't look a day over thirty five"

"If only Tyler if Only. Go on Go on sweets and treats to collect"

"Bye Geraldine"

"Thanks I'll enjoy this"

"See you Sunday"

"This is excellent"

"Behave you little ones. Un big'uns don't have the same energy as you lot."

"Yes Mrs Carr"

"All right ya'll now no running off again or it'll cost ya sweets. Four sweets for every time one of you makes a break for it. Understood"

"Yes Lyssie" They all looked glum but took our hands and the rest of the excursion went without incident.

We arrived home about ten. Though they were not exhausted they had about half a tank left and easily sat round the dining table so they could exchange sweets they didn't like for ones they did. We all had some. John emptied his pockets; Tyler emptied his helmet Lyssie pushed some out of her sleeves. I poured mine out of a velvet bag that was hooked to my hip. I had already eaten my donut from Geraldine. Heavenly.

Some near rolling round on the floor some raised voices. My word there is some politics in candy trading. The worth of this against that. It's insane. They finished when the door was knocked upon. I checked the clock. Eleven. T yanked the door open to Mrs Sanson looking slightly worse for wear.

"Hello Tyler. Where are my little angels?"

Tyler stepped out to avoid the crush between mother and children.

"Thanks guys you've been a godsend. Detangling herself she fished a twenty out of her spangly purse. "A twenty cover it." T looked at us for confirmation.

"Yeah that's great Mrs Sanson" I piped up.

"Thanks again guys. Come on kids' bedtime. No no candy this late it'll…"

The noise drifted out the door. T shut it gratefully Lyssie let her head roll back in relief John sunk down. Finally it's over.

"I'll put the twenty in the spring break fund okay guys"

"Sure" John mumbled.

"What are we going to do about the movies?" I was worried about the rental

"No sweat two night rental. We can watch them tomorrow"

"Okay."

John gave a laugh through his nose. I looked at him then Lyssie. She had nodded off. Going on silent immediately knowing how difficult sleep can be for her.

"Musta finally caught up with her" T whispered.

"Yeah" I similarly toned back.

"I'll take her to bed" John said rising. Gingerly like she was the muffin he consumed earlier he hooked her legs and head under his arms and lifted her slim frame. Sure footed he made his way to the room me and Lys shared. I stood up still in my dress.

"I'll slip into my pjs then clear up." T nodded.

Something stopped me as I reached the door to my room. John was pulling the covers over Lyssie, tucking her in as she restlessly shifted. Satisfied that she was warm he quickly planted a kiss on her forehead bushed some strands from her face and mumbled "night Lys"

Aww how sweet. I backed up as he left, pretending not to have seen anything before I grabbed my bed stuff and changed in the bathroom. T is not going to believe this. Aww god.

John had gone to bed when I spoke to T trying to remove crayon from the hardwood floor.

"I knew it I knew it I knew it" A massive smile filled his face and he returned to his scraping vigorously

This Halloween didn't turn out so bad after all.


	14. First Interlude: Sorrow of the Night

I don't own the thunderbirds or any of the recognisable characters from the series. Anyone you don't is mine all mine.

Thanks to Zeilfanaat for reviewing chapter 12

And now for something a little different

These Are The Times

First Interlude

Sorrow of the Night

It wasn't often one Alyssa Madeleine Morgan was late but when she was it was quite an occasion. The brit pack princess was so painstaking about time keeping its impossible for her to be late and was suspected by peers and outsiders alike the urge to be on time or early was genetic. When she was late it was due to someone's own poor timekeeping.

Ten minutes late.

She walked in, quickly, aware of her tardiness dressed in a smart trouser suit. Her top was gypsy style, a net layer with small blue flowers and a solid white t-shirt for modesty. By her whole demeanour it looked like she had just swapped her work shirt for this smart-casual number.

"Hey guys so sorry I'm late." She made a quick circuit of the table for hugs before sitting down herself. "The damn police commissioner wanted to give a whole speech on my new responsibilities as Boston's first Detective CSI"

Ah I heard about that scheme. More a way to get CSI's armed then anything. The lawyer in me talking.

"Oh congrats Lyssie"

"Well done" I added

"How fab"

"Thanks, all it means is I get to pack heat and do a bit more follow through plus a few extra bucks a year."

"The schemes a good idea though right?" John asked

"In theory it means less uni's get tied up but time will tell"

The whole evening passed too soon.

I'm not much for sentiments but these dinners are relaxing highpoints in my fast paced world. But I had been on the up. Made ADA in Atlanta. Meant moving away from Texas but closer to Erin. My little Enny-bee. We were in the fledgling stages of a slow burn romance. I couldn't be happier. It was still on the quiet though. I closed my eyes dreamily for a moment. I was tired slightly jet lagged as was Erin, it was a Boston dinner, and we had five of these dinners a year. One for each of our birthdays, and one at Christmas. We had city choice around our birthdays; it was Johns so we were in Boston.

I had to hold off slipping my arm round Erin whilst we waited for a cab. At least until Lyssie and John had slunked off. Lyssies smart Denali was brought around. She hauled herself in, John getting in on the passenger side. She offered us a ride again; she was taking John to the private airstrip so taking us to the airport wasn't any trouble. We turned her down again. She slammed her door shut threw the machine into gear and pulled smoothly away. I pulled Erin close taking her curvy shoulders to my chest. This was happiness.

* * *

I hate being late. I can't help it I detest it. Thanks to the damn commissioner I was late; I hadn't had time to change and was wearing the 'emergency' smart top I keep in my locker for when things go like this. Urgh. Johns present was sitting on my coffee table ready and waiting in silver paper. Erin and Ref had mailed theirs and his actual b-day was two weeks ago. But I had wanted to wait.

I often think there is some cosmic contract out on making my life as awkward as possible. First there was a spate of murders, prep for my detective's exam my CSI3 promotion. It's a miracle I'm standing.

I was glad to see them there. Since I'm not in contact with my family my friends are everything. That means Cassi at reception who constantly tries to set me up on blind dates. Max in trace whom has a crush on me and everyone else at the lab and the precinct.

I don't tell Cassi the reason I didn't go on blind dates was because I had a steady boyfriend who worked away and I only saw for a few days every so often.(John and I have had a relationship every since leaving Uni. It gets harder each time to see him go.) I'm definitely suspicious of what he does. Right after quitting NASA he asked to borrow my Dragon pendant. When I got it back it had been turned into a locket. In it was a tiny scrap of much folded paper with a numerical code. He also asked me for a sentence, a sort of emergency failsafe. Something I would remember with ease. Simple 'Led Zeppelin Won the West' Only he had me speak it into a sort of recording device. He didn't know it and I didn't ask questions.

When I pulled away in my Denali, John shrinking into the passenger seat I was awash with worry.

"Something the matter hun?" He looked at me like the weight of the world was crushing his shoulders. It was a horrifying look.

"Hm"

"I can't translate grunts Johnny"

"You remember when I fitted that back to your pendant and had you give that sentence"

"Course." I lifted one hand off the wheel to reassure myself the dragon still hung round my neck. "That. John do you have connections to International Rescue?"

If he had a drink in his hand or a sweet in his mouth either one would have hit the windscreen with his reaction.

"Is that a yes?"

He nodded numbly

"So pray tell Johnny what do you so all day?"

He paused all colour removed from his icy skin "I man a satellite. In space. I monitor all communications and goings on. I'm first response on rescues. I relay data and co-ordinates and advise the pilots and those in danger. It's on rotation most of the time but the other one owes me six weeks at the moment. Month on month off give or take. When I'm dirt side I sometimes accompany the 'birds to the danger zone.

I think he was expecting a not really seeing 'I see' I gave him "The calls getting to you?"

His head fell back into the headrest blond locks crashing around his eyes. "Oh so much"

I took my hand off the wheel again to give one of his a comforting squeeze. "It's all right Johnny you can tell me all you have to." By now my hand was back on the wheel. He placed his over my arm.

I brought the car into park walked up to my apartment all the time Johnny's touch never leaving. I let us in and we curled up on the sofa. He spoke for hours into the night. Each call in incredible detail. It was early morning when he dozed off. He slept better than he had for months. I couldn't let myself slip into darkness so I just lay there enjoying my time with him whilst I had it.


	15. John in Summertime

I don't own the thunderbirds or any of the recognisable characters from the series. Anyone you don't is mine all mine.

Thanks to White Rose and Zeilfanaat for reviewing. A touch more experimentation in this chapter, as ever all coments are welcome.

These Are The Times

Chapter 13

John in Summertime

Early November:

"Hello" I already know what this is going to be about. But I don't understand why he has to beat around the bush about it.

"Hello son. How are you? I trust your studies are progressing well."

"They're going fine father."

"I don't doubt. Any ideas what you're going to do when you finish your degree?"

"I'll see what comes up father" Get to the freakin' point already.

"What's with kids these days no drive no get up an' go you should be polishing your resume not messing about in that record store of yours. In my day…"

"What are you phoning for father?"

"Can't a father just pick up the phone to see how you are doing?"

On his end John sighed into the receiver. Jeff was forced to concede.

"Okay. I just wanted to know how long you would be staying over at thanksgiving"

"I'm not coming father; my friends and I are having our own thanksgiving this year."

"What!"

"I said my friends and I are having our own thanksgiving this year"

"I heard you the first time why on earth don't you want to come home, Scott's even on leave, you haven't seen any of your brothers in ages."

"I know" John wasn't really sure though if he missed them. It sometimes felt like his roomies were his family sometimes. He did have some issues relating to his family he knew that but then again he never felt understood. He got on with his brothers fine but there was no majorly deep brotherly bond. He got on with them all equally. Neither close nor unreachable. "But this is the last year I've got with them and I want to make the most of it."

"John the whole family always comes for thanksgiving, your brothers were disappointed over the summer, you weren't exactly mister talkative last summer, you mostly argued with them. Your brothers feel like you're drifting away a bit."

"Everyone was highly strung that summer"

_Summer time, Tracy Island_

_John Tracy vs. Gordon and Alan Tracy, Exhibition match. _

_John Glenn Tracy was not a sunny person. He thought the sun shone too brightly and it was too hot and sticky to make hard work comfortable. He loved hard work. And rock music. Fall suited him better it was less bright and more bearable, that said he preferred the British name Autumn, it gave the season a much more woody, angsty, atmospheric feel. _

_At this moment in time he had given up on work and had taken up temporary residence upon a sun lounger canopied completely by a palm tree and an overlarge sun umbrella. Beside him on the wicker table sat a glass of cool tap water (Purified within an inch of its life) an MP3 player with the headphones plugged in and the earpieces in his ears. In his hands he gripped The Queen of the Damned by Anne Rice. He had reached the Rock concert. In his ears played 'The Wall' by Pink Floyd. He would occasionally look at the insert book which was also lying on the table. He was wearing Dark blue crops and a similarly shaded T-shirt. His feet were bare and a pair trainers sat at the side of the lounger. _

_Scott was on the first of his two weeks of leave currently in some part of the house probably doodling aircraft designs. Virgil was up on the balcony painting. Gordon and Alan were off somewhere probably seeing who could get the most injuries without needing a trip to the med bay where resident mad scientist Brains resided. Grams? The kitchen probably preparing some high fat/calorie cake to fatten him up. Kyrano was tending to his herb garden somewhere near the kitchen. Tin Tin was in her room unpacking. _

_Jeff Tracy strode onto the patio like he owned the place. To be fair he did but theres owning the place and then theres **owning **the place he took a moment to survey his kingdom before stepping back inside.John gave a soft snort then reimmersed himself in his book. Lestat was about to go onstage when the pages were yanked from his fingers. _

"_Hey!" John looked up, startled. _

"_HEY Johnny whatcha doin?" Gordon and Alan filled most of his vision. Gordon stood smiling like a gimp whilst Alan lost his page. Petulant brat._

_John Tracy 0 Gordon and Alan Tracy 1_

_John knocked one of his earpieces out before responding. "Reading" He answered smoothly. _

_John Tracy 1 Gordon and Alan Tracy 1_

"_What about" Gordon snatched the book from Alan and began flicking through the pages._

"_Something" John reached out to grab the novel "You do not have the appreciation to understand" He snared the book and extradited it from Gordon's grip. He tried to find his page. _

_John Tracy 2 Gordon and Alan Tracy 1_

"_Whatcha listening to?" Alan asked intently examining the silver player. _

"_Music" Keep it smooth _

"_What kind?" Gordon turned his attention to the wicker table. _

"_Pink Floyd: The Wall according to this" Alan said holding up the insert booklet. _

_John Tracy 2 Gordon and Alan Tracy 2_

"_It's brilliant now leave me in peace"_

"_Uhoh Johnny's being a grouch how shall we snap him out of it?"_

"_Dunno Alan how about we mess with this little booklet. It has loads of neat pictures. How do you think it would stand in water?"_

"_I don't know Gordon how about we find out"_

_John Tracy 2 Gordon and Alan Tracy 3_

"_Hand it over it isn't even mine."_

"_Whose is it?"_

"_A friends, it's an original edition so just give it back."_

"_Worth a lot?" Alan always about the money_

"_Yes. Just give it back"_

"_We will when you stop being a grouch" Oh no, working in tandem. Oh militant cupcakes and murderous pens. Stupid weather stupid sun lounger stupid brothers stupid pool. They smiled like plotting chipmunks. Poor John. _

_John Tracy 2 Gordon and Alan Tracy 4_

"_Put it like this" John said rising from his lounger and using his extra inches to tower over them _

_John Tracy 3 Gordon and Alan Tracy 4_

"_You give me back the booklet and leave me the hell alone until further written notice and I won't tell Dad the truth about the laxatives. Or the mail or any other mystery that hasn't been 'solved' on this island or anywhere else we've lived you got me?"_

_John Tracy 4 Gordon and Alan Tracy 4_

_They looked at one another before tossing the booklet back on the table. _

_Peace. _

_John Tracy 5 Gordon and Alan Tracy 4_

"_Dinner everyone" Even being passed retirement you could still hear Grandmas voice just about anywhere on the island. It was scary. _

"_Blast" _

_John gathered up his things, put on his trainers (He didn't tie up the laces) and headed inside. Upon passing the table nearest the patio door he spotted the leather pocket photo album. Smiling he picked it up. Scott, smiling in his air force uniform. Next Virgil turning for the camera with an easel and paint pallet in shot. Next him not really looking at the camera with a ghost of a smile directed somewhere off shot. Then… Wait these are in the wrong order. Unless John was severely mistaken (And he rarely was. Most of his wrongs were rarely far off track.) Then Jeff had a problem with counting, memory and eyesight._

_A multitude of incidents ran through his head. And instead of confronting the Tracy patriarch he did something that was completely logical to a teen in the midst of rebellion. _

_Summer time, Tracy Island Dining Room. _

_John Tracy vs. Jeff Tracy, Round 1 _

_John slunked into his chair. He was a good slunker, master infact. He could slunk to gold in the Olympic slunking championships if he wanted. But Laser communications took up most of his time. He did not bother to apologize to anyone for holding up the meal. He sort of grunted and sat down slouching. He stretched across the table for the pitcher of orange juice and poured himself a glass. That seemed to be a cue for everyone else so they started passing around plates filled with salad and sauce and toppings. Burger night. John had to admit good old cheeseburgers were nice (Grandma wouldn't settle for anything less than homemade). Even over the noise of Pink Floyd he could here the loud chewing and swallowing noises. As if watching them chew wasn't bad enough. _

_John Tracy 1 Jeff Tracy 0_

_That was the problem in this family. Habitual offences were ignored Gordon, Virgil and Alan could get away with chewing open-mouthed and talking, Virgil was the worst by far but years of arty excuses and blank stares this had been pretty much accepted. Scott could get away with raiding the biscuit tin as long as Grandma didn't catch him in the act. Alan, chore shirking Gordon Pranking. Him? He wasn't sure. Time to test a few theories. _

_His head matched the rhythm of the music in his ears as he chewed. He tapped his foot. His finger. _

"_John!"_

_He waited for a moment, as if processing something and pausing midway before answering. He knocked an ear piece out._

_John Tracy 2 Jeff Tracy 0_

"_Hmmm?"_

_Jeff Tracy's eyes bugged out. He was momentarily stunned. _

_John Tracy 3 Jeff Tracy 0_

"_Well?" John said reaching for the displaced earpiece._

"_Why are you listening to music at the dinner table?"_

"_Bored"_

_John Tracy 4 Jeff Tracy 0_

"_That's no excuse"_

"_And I wanted to drown out the sound of them three chewing" He raised a finger in the general direction of the offenders._

"_What on earth is more interesting than family conversation?"_

"_How long have you got?"_

_John Tracy 5 Jeff Tracy 0_

_Jeff reached across the table tagging the lose earpiece hauling it and John halfway across the table. He put it to his ear "What kind of trash is this?"_

"_It's not trash, its Pink Floyd"_

_John Tracy 6 Jeff Tracy _

"_Fine. But no more at the dinner table."_

_John Tracy 7 Jeff Tracy 1_

'_Whatever' John paused the player knocked out the other headphone and pushed the remainder of his burger round the plate. _

_Afters came and went with John declining everything but the slimmest slice of chocolate cake. _

_Summer Time Tracy Island, Johns Room_

_John Tracy vs. Jeff Tracy, Round 2_

_John Tracy vs. Scott Tracy, Teaser _

_John Tracy vs. Brains, The start of a long friendly rivalry. _

_John Tracy vs. Virgil Tracy, Musical differences_

_John departed quickly after dinner. He left Pink Floyd on pause on his player and put a CD into his Boom Box._

_Motorhead: Ace of Spades. He started on a volume setting just above room filling (He had a big room) but below say early evening club music. It had cooled down by a good five degrees and there was an extra credit paper on angels of infraction that needed doing. Okay so strictly speaking it didn't but Johnny was bored. _

"_John do something about that trash its annoying" Scott was it? Banged on his door (Thank lord for the deadbolt (His own addition) and key pad codes (Everyone had one)) it was hard to tell. _

"_Yeah John I'm trying to practise on the Piano"_

_John Tracy 0 Scott Tracy 1_

_John Tracy 0 Virgil Tracy 1_

"_Okay" John reached across and turned the volume up_

_John Tracy 1 Scott Tracy 1_

_John Tracy 1 Virgil Tracy 1_

"_That's not what I meant" Lamentations were clear. The music was nearing (To the untrained ear)Bone crunching teeth grinding loud, to the practised ear it was like (According to Lyssie who was the only corroboration for this little nugget) Standing on the right verge at the National Bowl, Milton Keynes, England enjoying Green Day. John suspected she had a copy of the corresponding Live DVD but he had never seen it. He had it on order at his work place but it hadn't yet arrived. _

_John Tracy 2 Scott Tracy 1_

_John Tracy 2 Virgil Tracy 1_

_He fired up his PC and flicked through various security programmes before actually making it to his domain. Firstly he opened the (narrow) back door into the power supply mainframe. _

_John Tracy 1 Brains 0_

_The Island was powered by some pretty powerful generators (Some sort of fusion he suspected Brains was rather cagey but incredibly smart. Just finding the back door had taken nearly a week.) _

_John Tracy 1 Brains 1_

_, a bunch of strategically placed solar panels and a couple of power lines from surrounding larger islands for back up. The whole system was on an electronic grid he had hacked a while back. Second he bypassed a few circuits input a few of his own commands to ensure power remained then brought up his assignment which had an introduction and background research. _

_John Tracy 2 Brains 1_

"_JOHN!" His father, definitely "Why are you listening to this trash?"_

"_Well" John yelled over the riff "You said not at the dinner table and you never specified how loud"_

_John Tracy 1 Jeff Tracy 0_

"_Well I'm telling you now turn it down"_

_John pushed the dial all the way up. The thumping beat was now about as loud as standing really close to a death metal band in a one hundred seat venue. No as loud as a rather well co-ordinated incident involving Slipknot and a light sleeping unfair curfew enforcing night watchman. _

_John Tracy 2 Jeff Tracy 0_

_John Tracy 3 Virgil Tracy 1_

"_What? I can't hear you"_

_John Tracy 3 Jeff Tracy 0_

_There was some movement by the shadows under the door. He could hear his father trying his all access code on his keypad. (Yeah right)_

_John Tracy 4 Jeff Tracy 0_

_And general banging (Yeah right again meet Mr Deadbolt and doors that are hinged on the inside). _

_John Tracy 5 Jeff Tracy 0_

"_Alright John one last chance, turn it down"_

"_What?"_

"_Brains cut the power" _

_He could sense the collective drawing and holding of breath. John saved the forty five words he'd managed to add to his paper. No sense in losing it if the commands didn't work. _

_1…2…3…4…5…6…7…8…9_

_The head-banging rhythm did not even falter. _

_John Tracy 6 Jeff Tracy 0_

_John Tracy 3 Brains 1_

_John Tracy 4 Virgil Tracy 1_

"_John Glenn Tracy when you come out of there we're having a very long talk"_

_John ignored him and got on with his assignment. He had stored enough cheese, chocolate, pasta and frozen veg to survive the remainder of the summer. In his room he kept a fair sized fridge- freezer filled with all sorts of goodies. There was also a slightly rusty hob, a microwave and a kettle (Unfortunately he had to limit his caffeine intake Jeff Tracy was very funny about the godly substance (Heretic). He could wash he clothes in his ensuite bathroom. (He had a few tubes of travel wash from camping trips of yore) and a couple of gallon sized mineral water bottles. (He was paranoid about the Island that was something he couldn't shake). He was vulnerable to attack by the balcony but he could lock his windows and hope the quadruple glazed, bullet proof and bomb resistant glass held besides it was very difficult to reach his balcony. Best view of the stars and worst for access. _

_John Tracy 7 Jeff Tracy 0 _

_Time to Wage Cold War. _

Present

"John it was mostly down to you"

"I did what I wanted. Dad you let everyone else do as they please so why not me? Let me live my life my way. Give my love to my brothers. I have to go to work"

"John wait, wait I'm sorry"

Dial Tone

Jeff Tracy sighed and wondered when his bright, blond amethyst eyed son had gotten so far away. A near reflection to his precious Lucy.

Jeff Tracy was filled with new determination. He wanted his quiet loving son back. Time for a plan.

He picked up the phone. Re-arrangements had to be made.

"Hello Scott, Theres been a change of plan. Instead of coming home for thanks giving we're going to Boston. Yes, John's. The airport. In the morning. Gotcha. Excellent, see you there and then."


	16. Chats

I don't own the thunderbirds or any of the recognisable characters from the series. Anyone you don't is mine all mine.

Thanks to White Rose, Zeilfannat and pkw for reviewing, thanks for the comments and encouragement as always much appreciated.

These Are The Times

Chapter 14

Chats

I sit in the caffeinated world that is the bookstore. Around me sit various long coated business women and men flicking through magazines. I know I work at a coffee and ice cream parlour but the coffee I sell is to harassed parents and sixteen year olds taking a break from school work or when their parents have cut them off. Here are the ground beans in actual coffee makers not instant with added not quite boiling water.

This is Lyssies domain.

I can see her at the counter levering off a mouth watering slice of truffle cake and placing it beside a frothy latte for a mid-twenty city worker. Lawyer perhaps. All I've got is a mildly milky Americano; I've already finished the complimentary biscuit. As latte lawyer person sits down Lyssie says something to her co-worker who's playing around with one of the machines and moves from behind the counter.

"Sorry 'bout that Erin lunch time rush, how's yer coffee?"

"Lovely Lys" I sip to give the statement weight "I just stopped by to pick up some books, decided to re-charge first"

"Cool. I was just thinking about thanksgiving dinner and all'"

"What's up?"

"Well thinking 'bout our finances an' the fact that I get queasy at strong meat smells I was thinking of a vegetable stir fry with pasta, herb and tomato flavouring with some sort of side pie and garlic bread. You can cook a pack of turkey meat in a separate pan."

"Sounds good what about desert?"

"Ben and Jerry's. Somethin' like Dublin Mudslide. Calorific and super indulgent."

"Excellent. You draw up a list of all the ingredients and well see what we've got left over this week and next."

"Cool. You want to give me that book list so you can get the discount."

"You're a doll Lyssie"

"Sure" Lyssie gave a gentle smile. "I'll bring them home with me; Dawson is getting tetchy about the discounts.

"'Kay here's the cash" I forked over thirty five dollars and a list. Lyssie examined it with her fingers of different length nails before tucking it into her jean pocket. I sipped my rapidly cooling drink.

"When you due back at the parlour?"

"Not for another half hour. Cause it's winter we've got the cooker out, the fryers up and running, Winter specials time."

"Fried ice cream, yum"

"Highly. I do worry sometimes though, this guy that's twice the size of Edgar came in today asked for a fried triple scoop with sprinkles. I nearly said it's your funeral when I sold it to him."

"His funeral"

"Spose, how 'bout you."

"See that guy with the frothy latte over there?"

"Yah" She directed my gaze to the truffle cake guy from earlier.

"When I asked if he wanted anything else he said 'how about a side of you'"

"You are kidding"

"Not at all, took everything I had not to shove that cake down his designer shirt. Then I figured it'd be mean to the shirt. So I settled on swapping the sugar packets for salt."

"And?"

"Why wouldn't that be it?"

"I know you to well."

She raised both eyebrows in ascent "I told him to try selling that line on someone who'd care, I think he got it."

"Lyssie. I don't get how you can just put people down like that. I'm still reeling from that time you made that runner cry in Vegas."

"Not my fault he shouldn't have tried to grope me."

"That's true" I sighed and sipped again.

"HEY MORGAN BACK TO WORK"

"Uh oh Dawson's calling better get back to serving the masses."

"Don't forget about the books" I slugged back the rest of my mug and stood with her.

"Nah I won't" She turned to walk away "Oh and tell Ref not to use the new loaf of bread if he makes toast this evening the one next to the microwave is a touch stale but still toastable. And remind him if he uses the garlic not to put it on the knife then scrape the

knife in the spread, it makes crumbs."

"Sure Lys, catch ya later"

"Later Erin."

I step outside in the crisp November air, winding my scarf high. I'd already sorted out my folks about this thanksgiving anyways. They couldn't encourage me enough in fact nasty uncle Jim is coming to town and the less people he sees the better. I check my purse. Five bucks. At least all my contributions are up to date. At least I'm paid Tuesday. I decide to mark the five bucks for the holiday pot and then put what's left of next weeks into the food fund. Can't work monthly like Lyssie but then again once you've put all your contributions away at the start of the month it does allow more expensive treats/ necessities. And she's covered the rest of us more than once when the pay dates come up early. Its weird having to give cash to her instead of tucking it into the letterbox (Bills) the train (holiday) the burger (just guess) or sticking change into that funny Japanese character (Pucca?). That money either buys the odds and ends that keep Lyssie smelling of ginger/ vanilla/ strawberries (Depends on season and occasion) the random clothing item or goes into that money tin she keeps under her bed that she thinks we don't know about in case of emergencies. She manages the bills account for a good reason. Prices sometimes drive me mad. I make around four hundred bucks a month (Thank god for overtime rates and contract hours) of which $250 is my share of the rent $25 on bills $35 on food $25 for the holiday and the rest covers books and good old what not's of which some I leave in my bank account in an attempt to have something left resembling an emergency fund.

I stop at John's workplace and seek out the blond one.

"Hey John." I find him rearranging a dangerously balanced stack of reduced singles into a freestanding rack.

"Hey Erin ya seem chirpy"

"Yeah" I shrug and catch one stack as it teeters "Jus'speakin' to Lyssie. It seems she's designated chef for this year's turkey day. Just needs confirmation from you and T and she'll start prepping'"

"Cool" John shoved another load of discs into the rack. Annoying rapper I spied face partially obscured by the 50 off sticker. Improvement in leaps and bounds.

"She's thinking vegetable stir fry with pasta, some sort of side pie and garlic bread with Ben and Jerry's for desert."

"Sounds good. Any mention on Turkey?"

"Yeah she's suggesting a pack of the stuff. I'm thinking we can cook it with some sort of sauce, korma maybe."

"I think I can live with that. Somehow I think our oven would be hard pressed to take a full sized Turkey and all the trimmings. How do you think she's doing?"

"Okay I think, I saw her eating at breakfast yesterday"

"Man I don't think I've ever seen Morgs eat breakfast even when we were in the dorms. She'd just nurse a mug of coffee that could probably strip paint"

"She still does that though Johnny. I thought British people were supposed to drink copious amounts of tea."

"Since when have you known Morgs to follow the crowd?"

I shrugged "Good point" I checked my watch "I've gotta get off, see ya at home. Oh and if you see Ref tell him to use the bread next to the microwave and not put garlic into the spread, scrape the knife beforehand."

"Gotcha"

Closing time was fast approaching when Ref arrived for his weekly treat: "Double chocolate, strawberry and mint cone please, extra sprinkles"

"Hey Ref, how was work?" I grabbed a cone and a scoop and carved out the double chocolate.

"The usual, multiple middle aged men buying Jack Daniels and ready meals, lonely middle aged women buying bags of salad and vodka, children spending their allowance on sweets"

"You should start a dating service" I said scooping out the strawberry. He smiled

"Not a bad idea I can see the ad now. 'Lonely? Middle aged? Buy large amounts of drink? Meet like minded folk throughout Saturdays just hang about next to the counter and let the good times roll."

I pushed together the last of the mint "It could work" I laughed "Lyssie has an idea for Thanksgiving"

"Really?"

"Yeah she's thinking vegetable stir fry with pasta, some sort of side pie and garlic bread with Ben and Jerry's for desert. That sounds good to me and John. For turkey I was thinking a small pack with something like Korma sauce" I handed over the precariously balanced slowly melting mound after a quick shower of hundreds and thousands. Ref handed over a couple of bills.

"Nice. Healthy and covering all bases. I'm gonna get home and get some work done" I handed back a couple of coins in change.

"See ya Ref. Oh and use the bread next to the microwave and don't scrape Garlic into the spread."

"Lys again?"

"Yeah."

"Later"

"Bye".

Not a bad day.


	17. The Mundane

I don't own the thunderbirds or any of the recognisable characters from the series. Anyone you don't is mine all mine.

Sorry if my pricing seems too much or too little but I'm working off the principle that its 1 English pound to 1.5 American dollars. I'm fairly sure the exchange rate is a bit higher at the moment but that's what I'm using for now.

Usual Thanks to all my readers and reviewers

These Are The Times

Chapter 15

The Mundane

Till duty. Is there nothing more dull? Actually there is but I'm not experiencing any of them right now. Through go some snacks they ask for some smokes and a bottle of poison (Store brand vodka. That stuff'll burn through stomach lining). Just ring this up press a few more keys and take the cash give change and… it's over. I'm off shift yee haw!

I moved from behind the counter and moved to meet Lyssie and Erin sway-standing by the frozen decked in dry waterproofs. Alyssa seemed exhausted Erin seemed wistful. "Hey ladies"

"Hey Tyler"

"Hey" Alyssa mumbled with a half hearted wave and smile. Erin gave me a look then it registered. Alyssa must have had a rough psych session. I moved swiftly on.

"Hey guys" John interrupted. I looked at him then outside. Rain. He brushed his hair back then I took the chance to begin.

"The foods out back, and paid for. I'll go clock off and pass the bags out. Lys you can check for anything else you may need then we'll head home." I lead them towards the stockroom; Alyssa produced a paper list covered in neat writing. She could probably enter it into the record books for the tinniest writing, I couldn't read it and I have excellent reading vision, comes from browsing dusty law tomes all the time.

Punching in the access code and pushing through the door I grabbed the first bag from in front of my locker. Two four packs of Bacardi, different flavours and a jar of korma. Next from the workers freezer four tubs of Ben and Jerry's again different and a pack of Garlic Bread slices. The next bag from in my locker held flour (for the pastry) and various individually bagged vegetables (fresh(ish)(you never can tell)) and two packs of chocolate chip cookies.. Finally from the fridge the pack of turkey breast, a hunk of medium cheese a pint of milk and a pack of butter plus regular food for the rest of the week. Thanksgiving for $80 bucks. Not bad.

Laden with bags we hurry out onto the street and hunkered down along the sidewalk. Rain rain what a pain. This ain't regular rain either. It's the kind that'll make clothes dye run and turn road crossing into an extreme sport. We line up at the crosswalk and wait for the lights to change when some inconsiderate moron hurtles past straight through a massive puddle sending a tsunami of spray over us and everyone else waiting. A rather put upon woman in what could only be mink starts cursing. Lys looks over her shoulder then eyes the red 'don't walk' change to green 'walk'.

Her accent seemed rather prevalent as she spoke "Say what you will 'bout the British but we know how to get wet"

I looked at her.

With water dripping off her hair and nose she shrugged sending rivulets down her jacket sleeves.

Squelching up the stairs later thoroughly drenched resembling the cast of a low budget horror movie-drained, wild eyed clinging onto the last fragments of sanity. Slug like trails of water tracked our progress to the apartment. Erin let us in. Shucking our brand new second skins, waterproofs now seems wholly inadequate each of us filing to and from the bathroom to hang our wet stuff towel off the worst dress in old comfy clothes and help Lys pack the shopping away.

Later dressed in the kind of clothes that never see the light of day (i.e. sweat pants and t-shirts with cartoon characters) we fall in around the T.V and window box. The rain had eased off as such the window was open a crack Lys curled up nearby far far away with the chilly breeze and foreboding clouds. John sat nearby on the floor engrossed in one of my books leaning on cushions and pillows. Erin and I had the sofa grubby and creaky that it was. We sat either end in trance-stupors thinking simultaneously 'dear lord this is bad' and 'why oh why is it so compelling'. Like most of the non-detective dramas we followed that is to say 'continuing/serial dramas' that were followed on this TV for the most part three weeks out of every four (probably more but never all of it so the main plot was just about there with the minors pretty well filled out but with small mostly insignificant details missing nothing a few minutes on the appropriate website or message board couldn't solve). Comedies were always followed to completion even those old repeats of topical British ones that Lys seemed to draw large amounts of amusement from. I didn't. Most of the time Lys'll just roll her eyes and say nothing though I always know she wants to say something, what I'm never sure.

Compelled by curious boredom (and the sheer hell of following the programme for something to watch) I leaned over to my other shoulder on my half of the sofa to settle better and make it through the next half hour without yelling 'for god sakes woman it's in front of your face' and noticed Erin had the same idea, smiling the 'we'll make it to the end…somehow smile. I matched that and turned back to the screen to be bombarded with adverts. Sighing I drew my hand over my face to ease up the brain numbness (drama characters these days needed a serious injection of IQ points but then there wouldn't be a story) stretched my limbs to wake them up and grabbed the biscuit tin from the kitchen cupboard. Sitting back with a couple of chocolate digestives I chow down.

The programme ends… later; time seems to warp out of proportion with some of this crap. What I can measure is the seven biscuits I ate in that time. Grabbing one more for the hell of it I stick it away before I munch away my appetite. The news is on, one of those no real news days except the same old crap they yakked about yesterday only it happened today as well as the day before (and several more days before for that matter). Feeling numbed into a dozy stupor I decide to hit the sack before overtiredness hits and I have to spend an hour litigating to myself to nod off.

Thanksgiving is tomorrow, I want to enjoy it.


	18. Chef's Intervention

I don't own the thunderbirds or any of the recognisable characters from the series. Anyone you don't is mine all mine.

Usual Thanks to all my readers and reviewers

These Are The Times

Chapter 16

Chef's Intervention

It's nice, sitting here enjoying the slightly damp breeze on my face. The weather reminds me of home; days spent trudging fifty minutes in the rain to reach Psychology class, over lunch from the other school the otherside of town just because you could. Spending two hours copying from white boards and chatting only to leave and find the sky had turned black and every crossing from here to home had been turned into a paddling pool. With no chance of a lift.

Of course that was nearly three years ago, those people you chatted to weren't really your friends they just spoke to you because you were easier to deal with then the two airheads across the room. (Not that the two airheads were really that bad it was just better to talk to them when they were on their own). You held out some hope of friendship (Recognised as an invite to their eighteenth) that never materialised and never spoke to them again. The reasons why I was somewhat more sketchy on though in all honesty her snub changed my opinion from 'class mate' to 'using bitch' in a matter of twenty seconds.

That was then.

Now is 5:30 am on thanksgiving morning. Forcing myself away from the window and my reverie I decide to get on with the reason I'm up so early: To bake a cake- Chocolate sponge, with homemade buttercream filling topped with maltesers without half the cake mix being eaten before it gets to the oven. (Hand mixed; using the mixer would wake folk up). The two sponges were perfectly risen and cooling; the buttercream had a hint of coffee and was perfectly smooth. The washing up needed to be done and maltesers located, opened and positioned.

The actual meal cooking still had to take place as well. With the cake hidden away at the back of the pots and pan cupboard (In an old biscuit tin) I set out the pastry ingredients for cheese and potato pie (Sorta a Cornish pasty baked in a pie dish and different filling). Once I've got a satisfactory pastry I set about mashing the potatoes and, grating the cheese. The stir fry would take forty minutes to prepare, the garlic break just needed to go in a hot oven and the turkey-korma would take ten minutes on the hob. With as much prep as possible done I wash up and give the whole place a quick polish.

"Mornin' Lyssie"

"Morning Erin." I looked at the clock. 8:30 Am. "Just in time for the good cartoons."

Erin let out a gentle laugh "Yeah, you want coffee?"

"God yes"

Three hours later, everyone showered and dressed the smart side of casual smart and me wearing a plain, dark green apron over my white shirt and black trousers I pulled out the chopping board lined up the veg with cooking music going (American Idiot)jauntily singing along, spring in my chop when over the chorus came

Knock, Knock, Knock.

"If its Grace or Rick tell them I busy" I said dropping out of singing before picking it right back up at '_dreams of tomorrow'. _

* * *

A dark haired woman greeted a man of about fifty. 

Thickly New-York accented, surprised with the raised eyebrows and open mouth moved into a frown managed "You ain't Grace or Rick"

Ill-prepared for this reaction (Soooo not how he had planed it in his head.) he opted for the direct approach not after though checking the door number. "Is this not the apartment of John Tracy?"

At the mention of his name and sound of that voice John's ears pricked up. He sighed to himself hoping for a moment that he was hearing things/dreaming/part of some weird mix up before turning round. Crestfallen he said "Dad"

Lyssie stopped singing and chopping, again but not before finishing at '_redneck agenda'_

(An amusing side-note for Jeff: He supported the Republicans and their 'so called Redneck agenda' for they gave him the tax breaks needed to make several large investments that according to some Democrats contributed to a ten-point drop on the Dow Jones, the same investments that several months later saved the Democrats leader from a watery grave. Jeff raised his sons as republicans, in the world of big business money was everything and Republicans in the past had let him keep more of it. As a result anti-war sentiments such as this album were somewhat filtered, war may not be pretty but rebuilding industry were dollar signs waiting to happen.)

Before anything else could happen he stepped over the threshold and half the main living space and hugged the unmoving John. Erin closed the door "Hey son" he said softly before releasing his grip and standing back to apprise him, frowning a moment "You cut your hair" he noted giving the mussed spikes a narrow eyed inspection

John quirked an eyebrow waiting for the inevitable opinion.

The disproving, wary eye lasted barely a second; Jeff didn't need this descending into a repeat of the summer and moved swiftly onto more pressing business "Since you said you weren't coming home for thanksgiving this year I decided to bring it to you. Your brothers are just coming with the food, your Grandma is ready to cook it all up and we can have a nice thanksgiving dinner as a fam-"

"Back up, back up Dad" John backed this up with hand and feet motion. "Firstly" Counting on his hand for emphasis "I said I wanted Thanksgiving with my friends" Indicating to Erin, Tyler and Lyssie who still hadn't resumed chopping. "Secondly have you considered any food sensitivities my friends might have, who I will point out in case you haven't realised live here, and thirdly we have a small four person dining table with four chairs, a window box, a ratty sofa and two breakfast stools not enough room for everyone, not enough plates and cutlery for that matter"

"We can squeeze in and –"

"What with a shoe horn" Lyssie sprouted over the beginning bar of Jesus of Suburbia. She placed the knife down and moved from the kitchen counter over to John and Jeff. Did you even consider what we might actually be eating and when?" (She left out the two on two basketball they had planned afterwards).

"And you are?" Jeff tried his best to look glaring

"Alyssa Morgan today's designated chef" She said looking him straight back in the eye

"And you live here, with my son"

"As equals as do Tyler James and Erin O'Malley." Lyssie indicated to each in turn who gave quick waves of acknowledgement. There was another knock on the door, which Erin opened and allowed in the cane-wielding Grandma Tracy, nervous looking Kyrano followed by a series of walking trays. (Scott, Virgil, Gordon and a giggling Alan with Tin-Tin not far behind)

Alan immediately found the nearest empty space to dump his tray took one look around the cream coloured walls and gave a low whistle "Wow, what a dump, you actually live here Johnny?"

From behind him Erin sarcastically mock whispered "No this is just where we slum out you know to get down with real folk" puctuated with a 'street move'Tyler, John and Lyssie broke into smiles as Erin turned to close the door.

"Just a moment Darling." A demure voice said. Moments later through the door came Lady Penelope Creighton-Ward followed instantly by the broken nosed Parker.

Penelope had become an acquaintance of Jeff through her parents. Her parents, cream of English high society had seen a rich man with good eligible sons, invited him to the parties, the wining and dining, the golf, made him one of their own in the hopes that years down the line their only daughter (parents for the first and only time at forty after years of trying) would marry one of his sons, the next generation of high society, they didn't take just any genes after all. Penny had decided after meeting all of them on several occasions the one she wanted was John, the black sheep. Penny knew he was a challenge which is what attracted her. She had observed during her several interactions that Scott, the one expected to inherit Tracy Aerospace was a man of the heart for all his military experience, he could fall in love easily if so attracted, the right moves the right phrases, the right looks and stay in love without much effort on her part. John on the other was a man of the head, he knew his own mind, he was in control, never made a move with consideration, he analysed his emotions and used them without letting them control him (the eyes and hair were just a bonus). In preparation for this Penny had taken the appropriate measures, dressed in soft pink jacket and skirt (tastefully short) with an even paler pink tastefully unbuttoned shirt with matching pink court heels and handbag. Her hair was swept back and pinned up with clips lined with little pink roses, pearl earrings and necklace. Fortune and investments had been good over the years.

* * *

Feeling suitably outnumbered I moved across the room and stood next to Tyler who was sitting at the window box. 

"Dear Lord I feel like Belgium" said Lyssie. John made the action to go with that statement, turning around and running his hands through his hair his stress response overriding the initial shock. Thinking quickly Lyssie went back to the Kitchen area, grabbed from the sideboard a half-cooled mug of coffee in the Dragon mug and handed it to John. He took a sip then looked at her.

"I have no words"

"I do" said Jeff taking all attention back to him. "Turn that noise off, you have some questions to answer son why are you living"

"Hold up" Lyssie right here right now displayed some of those great interpersonal skills of hers "Don't touch that volume control." She said looking at Virgil who was all to happy to deal with the music. "Now Mister Tracy. I know this is not an ideal situation and on some parts it has been poorly thought out. But you can't go reading the riot act to someone in front of his friends and possibly assorted relatives slash acquaintances…I'm not sure. Let he without sin cast the first stone, hmmm. So I suggest that you put all your issues aside and remember it is thanksgiving." 'So you better be thankful I haven't read you the riot act myself' she added wordlessly to the end of the sentence.

* * *

Forced ever so gently on the defensive, nothing more spoken but plenty of action in words. Jeff looked around. Virgil took up station by the stereo. The gourmet but unprepared, uncooked food was waiting on and around the coffee table to be moved to an empty kitchen surface by Kyrano. There was about a metres worth. Not including the space Lyssie had taken up. "Okay" 

Smiling Lyssie decided to work on how this was going to work out. "When were you planning on serving dinner?"

Anyone could see this would not end well.


	19. The Fun Begins

I don't own the thunderbirds or any of the recognisable characters from the series. Anyone you don't is mine all mine.

Thanks to all my readers and reviewers, sorry about the wait, I started university and have had a million and one worries since I began. I plan to be more efficient with my next update and apologize in advance for any extended waiting period.

These Are The Times

Chapter 17

The Fun Begins

"About Sixteen hundred hours" Dad replied after a second. Same time for as long as I could remember. I could almost hear the 'great, just great' from Morgs. With a deep breath though she seemed to come up with a plan.

"Since I've already started preparing the stir fry ingredients how about we have that and the pie for lunch then the kitchen is yours." Her peaceable smile seemed such a blessing at this moment. I silently hoped she could keep it up.

"Okay" With that some of the tension left. Sensing the uncomfortable gap and the fact everyone was still standing Morgs quickly filled it.

"It'll be ready in about forty minutes so relax" There was the omission of 'make yourselves at home' "Johnny, Ref, Erin a word"

"Ref" She whispered once we reached the kitchen area "The Keys for the bedroom doors are on my nightstand I know I may seem paranoid but I don't want them poking around, that okay Johnny?"

"Definitely" I said without hesitation "Lock ours as well" Tyler nodded and moved away

"I'm going to give the bathroom a quick clean up" Erin crouched down to the cleaning supplies cupboard and grabbed the anti bacterial bathroom wipes. She crossed the apartment quickly and uneasily.

"Johnny, help me work out how we're going to serve everyone"

I didn't think the apartment had ever had this many people in it, Penny was examining the sofa before sitting down. Virgil was examining Morgs's alphabetical CD racks giving rhythmic tuts and sighs Gordon had found the TV remote and settled on a game, not noting our lack of channels, there was plenty of milling and conversation. Alan neared the bookshelf. Moving, drawing Morg's attention away from the sight but so I could have a good view I sighed not for the last time today by a long shot.

"Sorry about this Alyssa but I was sandbagged on this one as well"

"John this may be off topic but when you call me Alyssa something bad is often about to happen"

"That obvious?" I smirked like my hand had been caught in the cookie jar. (It was always Virgil when we were kids)

She smiled sheepishly back "Little bit, but I know you're telling the truth"

"Look, I've got a can of cream of mushroom somewhere that can be dumped in the toilet we plead sickness and have them outta here in five minutes flat." It was more for her than for me, I don't want to put her in an uncomfortable situation my family are bad enough without being on medication

"No that's alright hun, feeling better than I have in a good long while. And if they get on my nerves I'll tell Ref where the spice rack is." More gentle smiling

"I'll keep the cream of mushroom on standby." Quick smile back

"Okay, help me count the plates; we've got to serve lunch in something"

I reached up for the plate shelf. "Four dinner plates, four plain small plates, four medium patterned plates and theres the two we keep above the microwave."

"Okay that'll cover everyone. Have a rummage through the 'stuff' box and see if you can't turn up a few more dinner plates and that cutlery set we never used" Smiling at Morgs I quickly eye Alan getting dangerously close to one of those doorstep novels crammed into the shelf. If it was not removed gently it could bring down half a dozen other carefully ordered texts. His finger skimmed past it. My gaze returned to Morgs.

"Sure" I said looking warily to the ornament shelf. No-one was admiring the ensemble and no-one was leaning on it. "I'll grab those plastic bowls if I see 'em as well; need something to serve afters in. By the way what are we going to do for afters because if memory serves we have two pots of Ben and Jerry's."

"Ref's got a litre tub of Neapolitan, we can save the Ben and Jerry's for another time. Enny has some choc digestives and theres a few packs of bits and bobs that we can shove together, call it thanksgiving surprise."

"You have malteser cake hidden away someplace don't you?"

"I was going to serve it up after tea but I don't think I can split it enough ways for everyone. We can have it when they've all gone"

"Great" Alan had returned to the doorstep novel. His fingers reach up. Morgs frowned at me a moment then turned to see what I was seeing.

"Excuse me, will you be careful with that otherwise…"

* * *

Too late. Alan had pulled and it was like the second coming, the whole shelf fell, neatly ordered pristine texts with their sleeves rained on down, they landed brutally, pages crumpling, spines breaking.

I have never seen anything like it. Alyssa's mouth opens and shuts like a goldfish. John looks torn between melting into the ground and zipping in to tidy up the mess. Erin appeared out of the nearest bathroom wearing rubber gloves.

"Oh dear lord" Someone finally said. One of John's brothers.

Alyssa finished her goldfish impression and ran over to the mess, swung onto her knees in the same movement and began straightening out the mess. I could see her relax when nothing turned out ripped but still the anger at the many times read but only now broken spines of several expensive for students novels. Unfortunately Alyssa was stuck. What right did she have to yell at Alan whilst the boys father was in the room?

John looked at Jeff in askance and did Alyssa.

"Alan, help tidy up" was all he said in a calm, slightly bored tone.

"No, don't" said Alyssa, "I like them in a certain order just go and sit down and try not to touch anything"

I could see Alyssa promptly having heated words with John in hushed tones as John piled the books up and Alyssa placed them back in their respective places. I moved over to them whilst Erin backed back into the bathroom. It was uncomfortable, having strangers outnumber you in your own home.

Unfortunately I think John was going to come off worst out of this whole situation, when the time came that this would be discussed he would be the target of all our grievances and vice versa if his own family brought this day up.

"Johnny, why did you father just tell your brother to help tidy up rather than giving him a telling off?"

"Youngest" John answered expressionlessly. Alyssa frowned to herself then started reordering the books. She bit her lip a little as she put them neatly back into place, recalling the order with some forced ease. She was privately upset, true but it would do not good complaining about it. Hang on… oh no. Her signed Philip Reeve was on that shelf. Hardback as well. She stroked the tome with booklovers gentleness _I'm sorry that ignorant brat broke your spine _before putting back up with some heavy weight on her shoulders. Not good.

Lunch hadn't even been cooked yet.

Soon a saddened Alyssa was back chopping bean sprouts. "Ref" she suddenly asked "Would you mind getting the pie out of the fridge and turning the oven to 180 please?"

"Sure" I moved away from the paper mess and flicked the oven knob up to 180. The little light came on indicating heating. Next I moved to the fridge and removed the pie, neatly covered in cling film. I set it on the side feeling the chilled plastic on top the pressure shifting the prepared ingredients underneath. Reaching up I opened the cupboard above my head and removed an oven tray so it would be easier to remove once it was cooked through and ready to be gobbled.

A sudden peace descended over the space, one I could only liken to the calm before the storm…


	20. Lunch

I don't own the thunderbirds or any of the recognisable characters from the series. Anyone you don't is my own creation.

Sorry for the large gaps between updates, will try harder.

Thanks to all this story's patient readers and hope you enjoy the new chapter

These Are The Times

Chapter 18

Lunch

An hour and a lot of shifting around later us and John's family were packed in around the dining table at Mr Tracy's behest that we all eat around it. The colourful mish mash of dinnerware, glasses and cutlery accrued from dusty boxes of stuff stored at the back of Erin's closet were perhaps the most interesting things at the table. Navy blue dinner plates clashed with neon green handled knives and forks. The rainbow of colours however did not make up for the lack of conversation. No-one spoke as they consumed Alyssa's stir fry or cheese and potato pie. The garlic bread had also been shared out. In fact more noise came from the TV, Alyssa had stood firm when it came to Jeff's request to change the music. Actually attempt was more accurate. After the final bars of Greenday faded out both Alyssa and Jeff had moved to the stereo. Alyssa was going to go with Franz Ferdinand, the general consensus that they were innocuous enough not to offend but interesting enough to be worth listening to. And plus The Dark of the Matinee was a really cool song.

Jeff on the other hand wanted to put on one of his country music collections, the one he always played over Thanksgiving with the reflective lyrics the idea to make everyone think about what they were thankful for. Rather than have an argument Alyssa suggested that they stop with the music and turn up the TV loud so everyone could enjoy the sporting broadcast.

I and probably everyone at the table had been through possible conversation topics and it seemed most had been vetoed. Politics, recent news, music, Cavemen vs. Astronauts, gossip. Mrs Tracy had briefly enquired about the recipes but that avenue was pretty much stymied when Alyssa directed her to the cookbook on the newly restored shelf.

John had sunk into well, a funk. He was not in the mood for mild conversation not that many people could tell just by looking at him. It seemed he had spent the past few years keeping his family self and his friends self as two different people and could not blend the two together creating one that would appease his father and not force him to distance himself from us.

Alyssa's cutlery moved over her stir fry in crazy patterns, whipping up a piece of pepper and a scrap of noodle as she attempted to draw out her dinner as long as possible, but at the same time never wasting a motion. I half expect her to start juggling her knife and fork at some point.

Erin outwardly radiated a mild, cheery disposition but inwardly she did not know what to do or how to act. She kept a close eye on her food, somewhat preoccupied with a beansprout, focusing on it and seeming occupied enough not to bother conversing.

I had taken care not to eat too fast as I did not want to finish first, that would make everything even more awkward. I had the feeling the cheap paper serviettes that we had supplied our guests with were not up to the usual standard as the woman in pink, Lady Penelope (Pretentious much?) delicately dabbed her lips with an expression of well, disguised distaste. Then again it might have been 'neutral' for her, she had given that look to everyone that wasn't part of the Tracy entourage.

Eventually, I sure to several peoples dismay plates were emptied and there was not enough for seconds. People attempted valiantly to draw out their cups of squash and fruit juice but to no avail.

"Well" Grandma Tracy said trying to shake of the silent atmosphere, rising she began to gather cutlery and cleaned plates "Scott, Virgil come help me get the washing up done, then I can start cooking the Turkey." The thought of a good thanksgiving roast perked everyone at the table up except Alyssa who blanched, if discreetly. I felt sorry for her, the last time Edgar had made Buffalo wings with his apartment door open forced Alyssa to repress her gag reflex just to get from our door to the stairs heck I nearly puked it was that bad, we only cooked meat with plenty of ventilation cause as much as I enjoy the taste, having the smell hang in the air is just not nice.

With everyone shuffling around I decided to spring into life, moving towards the others, two of John's brothers were watching the game, Jeff and the Lady were quietly conversing with her attendant unobtrusively behind them. The young girl was collecting plates whilst the Hispanic man helped Mrs Tracy unwrap the many trays that had arrived with the family.

"Yo, Bro" the red head shouted in John's direction "Ya got any nibbles"

John rolled his eyes.

"Theres a cracker selection box on top of the fridge, open that up and leave it on the coffee table"

"Good call Lyssie" Erin said stretching up for the tin.

"No sweat"

I had wondered where that had come from, in my experience food did not just randomly appear on top of the fridge but the same could be said for those flavoured coffee jars that seem to randomly appear on the counter. I've never seen that brand in any shop I ever go in.

Another mystery, another time.

For the first time in several hours I take note of what is going on outside. It wasn't the warmest day, but the gentle November sun; with wisps of white clouds sparse over the skyline I thought it would have been a nice day for Basketball. Doesn't look like that was going to happen though. There aren't many people or cars passing either, the panic buying rush of this morning had tailed off leaving peace to permeate the streets.

I felt closed in, no wonder with the amount of people in the space, it took a lot of effort sometimes to not step on someones toes normally. Sharing bedrooms was hard work at the best of times as well, it does get awkward when you need some 'time alone in a dark room' and your roommate has decided to curl up with a book.

I sat on the window box seat and pushed aside the latch, lifting up the battered frame. Air fresh and light touched my face brushing away the thick and heavy atmosphere for a moment.

"Take that back!" Was the sudden shout. I turned around, Scott was engaging in some brotherly roughhousing with Gordon. I watched carefully and winced as the battered frame of the sofa creaked. Virgil was helping his Grandmother in the kitchen.

Whilst he engaged himself in the task of opening a can Grandma Tracey stood with a slight air of confrontation in front of Alyssa. Grandma, by no means a slouch had her hands on her hips and to most people would probably look quite fierce but Alyssa, whilst skinny as a rake stood a lithe 5'7" and had her hands rather determinedly on her roasting

tin.

"Mrs Tracey, with respect that's my tin and I do not use it for cooking meat please use one of the others"

"First of all call me Grandma"

"You ain't my Grandma" Lyssie bit back, gently left hand sweeping to her hip. Her bodyweight shifted emphasising the bone and her point.

"Okay sugar" Tactical error…

"And don't patronise me I have a name"

"Okay Alyssa, but really your tin is in the best condition, and is plenty deep enough"

"I spent good money on this tin, it's great, doesn't stick, holds it shape is easy to clean and I'd rather you didn't put a great frickin turkey in there. You can cook all the veg you want in it but nothing meat related, in it. No juices, no bones no meat okay?" One hand her on hip, she meant business.

Knowing there was no more she could do without considerably souring the tense atmosphere even more for the first time in years Grandma Tracey relented. She picked up her second choice a weather worn slightly dented roasting tin that Ref inherited [nabbed from his parents.

She joined me a moment later, curling up like a coil being compressed her head lolled to the left as if she lacked the energy to keep it upright, she corrected herself a moment later as if suddenly conscious of the company.

"How are you holding up" seemed to be a better question then 'are you okay'

"Feeling a tad heady" She responded quietly. Her eyes closed again, her head rocked a moment then she opened her eyes. With a practised flick she brought her wrist up to view her watch. "Due a happy pill in half an hour anyways, I'll slip out for a lay down after that and be feeling better by dinner, sound okay?" The edges of her lips raised sheepishly as if she knew it wasn't the best thing she could say at that moment.

"Yeah" I sighed "I wouldn't mind joining you" Uh oh I should have thought that out.

A soft ha ha emitted and a gentle smile "Can't do that, it'd be rude"

"So, its not like their being stella houseguests"

"But think about it, you could be the bigger person metaphorically, not just with your lanky limbs"

"Good point"

As if to concur the sofa gave a pained squeak under the shuffling weights of my brothers.

'How long till dinner?' I wondered and 'Will I get out of this alive?'.


	21. Penny For Your Thoughts?

I don't own the Thunderbirds or any of the recognisable characters from the series. Anyone you don't is my own creation.

Sorry for the large gaps between updates, will try harder, university loves giving me work.

Thanks to Zeilfanaat for reviewing and to all this story's patient readers. Hope you enjoy the new chapter

These Are The Times

Chapter 19

Penny For Your Thoughts?

Alyssa slipped quietly into her and Erin's room a short while later under the pretence of a headache. John's Grandma was cooking, slicing and dicing vegetables whilst Kyrano prepared a pumpkin and Parker finished the drying up. The rest of our guests were mostly crowding awkwardly on and around the sofa, chairs crowded round the small unit intent on either the game or having a conversation. Erin, John and myself were posing on the window box as it really wasn't big enough for three to sit normally.

"Here" Erin offered me a large glass of homemade bucks fizz, three parts cheap white wine, one part economy orange juice. She had made a jug up that morning which she had rescued from the fridge a short while ago, before Alan saw it and thought it was orangeade.

I took a large sip, it didn't taste half bad. I held the temptation to drain the entire glass and looked to Mrs Tracey who was going to town on some parsnips. Pink suddenly invaded my view.

"Hello John" Penny's high class accent rolled out the syllables deliberately, ensuring attention.

"Hello Penny" John replied politely, but nothing that would encourage conversation. Undaunted Penny made a move to shuffle onto a hard cushioned edge of the window box next to John. Erin and I moved along, though it didn't really help.

The aristocrat smoothed a hand lovingly over the faded suede edge she had been given then sat down with a little more fuss than necessary and showing a little more leg than honestly needed.

At twenty three the young Miss Creighton-Ward was in full flower of her beauty, glossy blond hair, fresh clear skin and healthy curves, if just barely. The desire to be skinny permeated every layer of society.

"So John" she drawled, "I hear you are quite the expert in network pathways, tell me what draws you to the world of physics and wires?"

"It's intricate something I can get lost in" Hint non withstanding Penny pressed on.

"Really? Parker simply set up my wireless router and now I can arrange appointments anywhere in the house, in a time where things can be done without lengthy cables why do you seek to bury yourself in miles of the stuff?"

"Routers are end of the line, in order to co-ordinate signals, make sure they get to where they're supposed to be but the information still has to be channelled through something, plus its much easier to monitor a wired pathway, just follow the cable, with wireless everything is more mobile, nothing is tethered like it used to be." John's answers bordered on robotic. He got those questions every time someone new started at the music shop.

"Well mine is the only house for miles, I think I'm okay, especially after the fuss it took to upgrade the line to broadband. I do so love checking my letters without having to leave the comfort of my own boudoir" John choked slightly at that comment as did Erin and I.

"Must be nice having the network to yourself, we share it with everyone on this floor" Erin attempted to give John some support. Penny reacted.

"Really? John how come you do not have your own internet connection?" She seemed genuinely surprised.

"Its included in the rent, it's faster than anything we could otherwise afford"

Penny's mouth formed an 'Oh'

"Well that's nice" she covered the momentary fish expression quickly.

"It works out" Erin offered offhandedly.

Not wanting to seem rude I kept my attention vaguely on Penny. She didn't really interest me, too much high class caviar and swanky living. I prefer fish sticks and this little place, anyday. Couldn't she go bother Scott? He might actually find her mildly interesting. I'd rather listen to one of Erin's animal rants or have Lyssie talk about dNTPs and Taq. Sure I like science and all that but I can't for the life of me get a handle on all these Primers Lyssie bangs on about from time to time.

I remembered to nod and make vague conversation with Penny, well she talked I smiled and went 'Yeah?', 'Really?" and 'You're kidding?'. If she noticed this substitute for an actual conversation then she didn't say anything as she graphically described her last trip to St Tropez.

Too sunny for my taste but her favourite destination, haven of the young, beautiful and dense. Seriously when father dragged me on holiday there a few years ago the most intelligent person I encountered there was a waiter saving up to go study media. Maybe I'm biased but it's not exactly rocket science. Or even Sports Psychology.

That might be a bit cruel.

Oh hang on she's looking at me expectantly.

Think.

Think Fast.

Damn.

Not helping.

Think faster.

"Don't worry John darling I don't expect you to answer that"

Phew

"Uh, would you mind directing me to the restroom?"

"Sure" I said almost too enthusiastic to find an exit. "Over there, door with the poster of a cat on it" I point in the general direction, only an idiot could miss the adorable kitty on the door. Smiling, somehow it seemed a little too 'thank you darrrrrrrrrrrrling' she relinquished her five inches of window box space which was then quickly occupied as the three of us stretched out.

Erin and Tyler both shook their heads.

"I wouldn't spend anytime alone with her Johnny, she might try and eat you whole"

"Shut up Tyler" I responded lightly. I could handle Penny, besides why would I want to date a society queen when I could date a scientist or a mathematician or a doctor, someone who at least has a vague idea what I'm talking about when I mention quantum theory or relativity.

Lyssie reappeared, a little more colour in her cheeks. She heads straight for the fridge, removing a bottle of water and sits on the floor to the left of Erin's legs.

"Feeling better?" Erin asks

"Yeah" Lyssie said with a small, natural smile bringing the water to her lips.

Around us the rest of the family milled about. Dad Virgil and Gordon were watching the game. Alan and TinTin were giggling in the corner. Kyrano Scott and Grandma were in the kitchen, Parker waiting patiently just outside the bathroom for his lady to return.

It was like thanksgiving back home.


End file.
